Reflection
by salus gem
Summary: Meeting oneself is a strange experience. But meeting yourself, a self who attacks you, is stranger still and it leads Harry on a journey of discovery into the truth about himself and the other Harry. What path will he choose - to help or hinder Voldemort? Metamorphmagus!notHarry. OC. OC/NL, HP/GW, RW/HG. Manipulative Aberforth, typical Dumbledore.
1. Chapter 1

Reflection – Chapter 1

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profits from posting this fanfiction.

 **Summary:** Meeting oneself is a strange experience. But meeting yourself, a self who attacks you, is stranger still and it leads Harry on a journey of discovery into the truth about himself and the other Harry. What path will he choose - to help or hinder Voldemort?

 **Warnings:** Slash. Character death. Murder, violence, fighting. Drugging. Control. Manipulation.

 **Pairings:** OC/NL, HP/GW

* * *

 **Saturday 27** **th** **July**

The order would come to collect him at midnight.

Midnight.

He'd get to leave Privet Drive for the last time ever…hopefully tomorrow he could get a haircut too. His hair was really quite long now, reaching his shoulders at the back and hanging strangely around the front of his face. He had taken a pair of scissors to it himself just to keep it out of his eyes but couldn't bring himself to cut the rest off. Still, Molly would be able to help he was sure, she was always offering to help Bill cut his hair. Hopefully Hermione could help with his glasses too, they were blurry and he couldn't see properly.

Only 4 hours until midnight.

The Order would be there soon to help him get away before the wards fell in a few days. It had been planned for a while. The Dursley's had already gone away, to who knows where. That was kept a secret, and Harry didn't really care at all anyway. As long as they were safe. He didn't even care if they were comfortable.

He trudged downstairs tapping his wand holster as he walked to make sure he still had his wand. In the kitchen he set about making himself a sandwich with the little food available to him in the house. The Dursley's had left milk and other perishables in the fridge, he could eat the ham in his sandwich but the rest would be better off in the bin. Sandwich made Harry took one bite then set about emptying the milk carton down the sink, running water so it wouldn't reek in a few days, and cleared out the fridge and other perishables. Once he'd separated the recyclables from the rubbish he grabbed a handful of stuff and headed to the front door. With one hand he carefully unlocked the door and pulled it open. He trudged the path to the bins and loaded his stuff into it.

Just as he was closing the bin lid he caught a glimpse of several cloaked figures coming down the road. Broad daylight just walking down the road! Hoods up, cloaks falling to the ground…wizards.

Harry turned and ran.

"POTTER!" A voice screamed behind him. He didn't look. Looking meant trouble. He just ran.

In through the front door, he slammed it shut and slammed the bolts across. That wouldn't stop a wizard but it might help. Harry drew his wand. He couldn't use magic. He didn't care about being expelled but he couldn't be arrested. Not now. Not with Vol…

There were slams against the door.

"Potter! Open this door right now! Right now, do you hear me!"

"Potter, it's Aberforth Dumbledore…"

Who?! Harry turned and ran away from the door. He needed his stuff…but that was upstairs and there were bars on his window! He wouldn't be able to escape.

"Open this bloody door Potter before I break it down!"

Oh shit…Harry frantically looked around. Where could he go?! How could he get out?! There were no other exits from the house! The garden was fenced in, there were no windows he could use that didn't lead to the front garden or back garden. He couldn't hide in the house. He had to get out!

"I warned you Potter! Aloh…"

Harry didn't hang around for the last of the incantation. He ran to the back garden. It was the only other way out. The fence…he'd jump the fence. There was a bench, then the shed…he could do it. He could! Harry ran over to the bench, jumped up and with his foot on the arm rest saw three people enter the house. Their hoods were down. One was Alastor Moody. Another looked like Dumbledore…Harry's heart clenched. The last person though…the last person looked like him. The last person _was_ him. Hair, eyes, skin, glasses, height…it was him.

Harry's steps nearly faltered.

"Quick Alastor!" The Dumbledore lookalike levelled his wand at Harry. Harry threw himself forward, pushing with all his might through his legs so he could jump onto the shed. He landed with a thump just as a red light flew past him.

"God!" He gasped. Breath coming hard he looked around. Blood beat in his ears. His heart was in his throat. He stared around frantically then down to his three attackers. He stared at the other Harry. "Who the hell are you?!"

"I'm you. Or rather, you are me."

"Don't say anything else Harry." Alastor barked and repositioned his wand. More lights sped their way to Harry. He rolled and fell off the shed and into the next door neighbour's garden. Mrs Smith was in the kitchen and gaped at him. He waved as he got to his feet then the fence burst into splinters.

A voice identical to Harry's called, "Stupify!"

There was a flash of red then all Harry saw was black.

When Harry woke up he was tied and gagged in a tiny dark room. He didn't dare make a noise. Moody, that crazy Dumbledore and the him-look-a-like had kidnapped him. Harry's heart was in his throat. Blood roared in his ears. He'd been taken by Death Eaters. They had to be Death Eaters. But how could they get into the house? They clearly meant him harm so how could they enter the house before the wards dropped?

Voices.

Harry could hear voices. And, now his eyes had adjusted, he could see light. His vision wasn't perfect but he could see. Strangely his sight was just as bad without his glasses as it was with his glasses. Harry strained to lift himself up. In the end he used the wall to prop himself up, making a bottle of Mr Muscle fall off the shelf onto the floor.

He was in a cupboard. He knew the cupboard! He was in the cupboard under the stairs! But why was he here?

"Right Potter, you're still under aged which means you've still got the trace on you." That was Moody's voice. Harry strained as best he could forwards so he could get a glimpse through the small peep hole he always used as a child to spy on the Dursley's. It was small but it served its purpose. Harry could usually get a glimpse of Uncle Vernon's face and could tell whether he was going to be in more trouble than usual just for existing by how purple the man's face was. Through the gap now Harry could see himself, standing in front of Alastor Moody in a room full of people. He could make out lots of red headed people, obviously the Weasleys. And there was a huge dark man in the corner…Hagrid, clearly. Nobody else was that big.

"The trace?" Look-a-like asked, even his voice sounded the same as Harry's!

"If you sneeze the minister will know who wipes your nose. The point is we have to use those modes of transport the trace can't detect…" Moody educated with a surprising amount of patience in his voice considering his blunt delivery. He went on to explain the plan, how they'd escape, what they would do if they were attacked, who was going with who. It was a nightmare…a living nightmare. They were planning to escape with Death Eater Harry while Harry was stuck in the cupboard!

He tried making noise, tried stamping and knocking things around. He hit the door with his feet but nobody even blinked in his direction. They couldn't see him or hear him…they didn't know he was there. They must have put spells on the door! Maybe he was warded in! There were such things as silencing wards after all, it was one of the few wards the boys had bothered to learn in the dorm mostly to stop themselves from hearing Seamus' snoring and Dean's…extra-curricular activities. Point is; Harry didn't think he'd ever be in a situation where help was so close and yet impossible to reach because of the damn ward.

He settled for watching. Seven people took a cup and drank. It was clearly polyjuice because their appearances changed to become the same as Harry's, the Death Eater Harry's with tidier hair. Then they began to get changed, pink flesh being visible before being covered up with red shirts, grey jackets and blue jeans. Once that was done more instructions were given out by Moody and within ten minutes everyone was out of the door.

The house was left in silence for all of two minutes. Then there were screams and shouts, yelling and cursing and rage filled screeches.

The Death Eaters had come! The Death Eaters had all come! Just like they worried about. When the wards went down the house was visible and now the Death Eaters were after Harry's friends…or already had Harry's friends thanks to Death Eater Harry!

"Get in there and check the house!"

Two boot covered feet stomped in through the doorway. Harry held his breath, barely daring to breath. That was a Death Eater! No doubt. A long black cloak, heavy boots, a white mask and the smell of decaying things…definitely a Death Eater. The boots stomped around then stomped upstairs, dust from the stairs landed on Harry's head as it always did when Dudley or Vernon used to stomp about. A few tense moments later the boots came back down and a gruff voice shouted out.

"Nobody there! The whole hovel is empty."

"Bloody Potter! Alright, up in the air!"

As simply as that they were gone. Harry waited and waited.

The minutes ticked by agonisingly slowly.

He didn't dare make a noise. Not a single noise. He didn't even dare to wiggle around now. He just waited.

Police lights flashed in the street. That light up the whole place, nearly blinding Harry with the bright amidst the darkness. People came into the house again, started bumbling around turning on and off lights. They declared the whole place was empty, shut the door and put up tape. Harry could hear them talking with neighbours outside. They hadn't searched the cupboard…maybe they couldn't see the cupboard.

The ropes around his ankles and wrists disappeared. They didn't come undone, they didn't break, they just disappeared. The gag in his mouth also disappeared. The door to the cupboard swung open.

Harry held his breath. Who was there?! Who did that?! What was going on?! Why was he free now all of a sudden? Was it a trap?!

Harry waited. He waited.

Nobody came. No sounds, no people, _nothing_. There was nothing there.

Perhaps the spells had worn off? Hopefully.

Harry darted to his feet, rubbed his wrists and felt for his wand. It was missing. His wand was gone. They had taken his wand.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. What was he going to do now?! How was he going to go anywhere? He couldn't stay here but where could he go? What waited for him if he left the cupboard? The house?

He had to chance it. Maybe there was some money or something left upstairs…maybe! Anything would help. Otherwise he'd have to make do. How far was it to London?

Harry carefully exited the cupboard. His body was wracked with tension that didn't dissipate no matter how many steps he took. He made it to the bottom of the stairs and, tactically not the best decision ever, decided to go upstairs to see if there was anything he could find to help him get out of the situation.

The upstairs was empty though, except for a few ruined clothes of Dudley's and some of Harry's old things he had never thrown out after deciding not to pack them. His trunk was gone, his bed covers were all over the floor and his mattress was torn now but that was it. There was nothing there, not even in his secret stash of things in the floor boards. That was empty too, he'd made sure of that earlier. What to do? HE had no way to defend himself, no money to get anywhere, and no things to take with him anyway. He was stuck. Not even Hedwig was around.

It was too late to go anywhere now anyway; it was probably too dangerous as well…not that it was any safer there.

Harry spent ages trying to decide what to do. In the end he decided he would have to leave Privet Drive. It was asking for trouble being in the house now, after Death Eater Harry had attacked him and the other Death Eaters had been there. He packed his duvet with all the spare pieces of clothes he could, including the torn sheets in case he needed them. Then he crept downstairs again. Considering there had been so much going on earlier the street was oddly quiet and dark. The lights were out in every house, there were no people around and the police had long since gone. The clock on the cooker said it was 2am so Harry supposed that explained it.

He crept out the front door and out onto the street, probably looking like a young skinny Father Christmas with his duvet slung over his back. Two streets over he took another turn down a lane which he knew lead to the A road that lead into London. He would walk along that as far as he could and camp out afterwards. Maybe if he was lucky he could hitch hike.

* * *

 **July 28** **th**

Hitch hiking had been easier than he thought, especially since it was the Police who picked him up. He'd been thoroughly questioned about why he was out there wandering around with a duvet on his back but by that time he had already mentally rehearsed his answers. His drink had been spiked by his friends and they'd driven him to Surrey and left him there. It was believable when you counted in the fact that Harry looked about the right age and that several kids had been pulled over for driving while intoxicated. They hadn't made Harry give names, because Harry couldn't remember anything anyway, but they had been kind enough to take him into London. They were going to walk him home but a stabbing at a local council estate had called them away so Harry was allowed to walk the rest alone. Pure luck! Even more luck meant he was close to the Leaky Cauldron, and forty minutes later he'd even managed to find a dry spot to sit down, snuggle into his duvet and have a rest.

Early in the morning on a weekday meant it was fantastically easy to get through the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley. There were so many people, witches and wizards, who didn't even look twice at him as he tagged along behind them into the Alley. Shops were brimming with people already and he didn't even look out of place carrying his duvet. The magical world was weird like that. One person had just assumed he was carrying his wardrobe in the duvet and was delivering it to his Gringotts vault. The goblins, as usual, didn't even bat an eyelash.

"Key."

"I um…I don't have my key. All my things were stolen last night in a…in a…in a Death Eater attack. I just…I need to get into my vault so I can get money to catch the knight bus or use the floo."

The Goblin peered at him with unimpressed eyes.

"No key, no entrance."

"B-b-but…but I honestly don't have it. I only ever had one key and that was in my trunk."

"Nonsense! Gringotts always provides 3 keys to every new vault owner. Next!"

"But I swear I only had one key! I've only ever had one key!"

"Any key problems must be taken to Enquiries and Complaints. Next!"

A wizard shoved Harry out of the way in an effort to get to the Goblin who didn't spare Harry another glance even when he tripped and fell to the floor. A few people teetered but nobody offered to help.

Embarrassed and upset Harry stood and looked around. He needed to get into his vault, hadn't the goblin said something about Enquiries and Com…ah, there. There was a small desk in the corner of the room just for Enquiries and Complaints. The desk was blessedly empty too. Harry strode straight up to the counter.

"Hi, excuse me, I don't have my key because I've only ever had one key and…"

"Name?" The goblin demanded in a dry no-nonsense tone.

"Harry Potter."

The Goblin eyed him critically.

"Hmm." Then he got up and walked over to a set of filing cabinets. He pulled out the middle drawer which seemed to pull out endlessly, going the entire length of the room and then some, as the drawer itself bent back upon itself and kept coming out of the cabinet. "Potter…"

The goblin pulled out a file, opened it and peered down through half-moon spectacles perched on his abnormally large nose.

"Potter, Harry James was issued with three keys in 1987 at his address in Hogsmeade." The goblin snapped the file shut and put it back in the cabinet.

"But I was seven then, and I didn't find out about the wizarding world until I was eleven! _And_ I've always lived in Surrey."

"We do not appreciate lies here at Gringotts. You shall be escorted from the building!" The goblin reached out to ring a bell with a gnarled hand.

Desperately Harry slammed his hands down on the desk. "But I'm not lying! I promise I'm not lying!" Two bulky goblins carrying vicious looking weaponry marched towards him as soon as the goblin pressed the bell. Harry stared at them, fear flooding through every cell in his body. "I…do you have any veritaserum?! I'll take veritaserum to prove it to you! I'm not lying!"

"You would be willing to take veritaserum?" The two angry looki8ng goblin guards paused as the goblin behind the desk spoke. Seeing it as a piece of luck in a potentially horrible situation Harry nodded frantically.

"Yes! Yes I will!"

"Come along then 'Mister Potter'. This way." The Goblin opened the desk and stepped out from behind it, summoning Harry to follow him. The two goblin guards crowded behind him leaving him little choice but Harry would have gone anyway.

He was led out of the main atrium and down a corridor at the back, then through a huge set of brass doors with gold handles. The doors didn't look even remotely nice despite the metals they were made from. They were flat and solid, completely blank hulking doors that made an ominous thud as they closed behind Harry and the goblins. Inside was a chair before a desk and another chair. In the corner of the room was a cabinet with a lock, and there were ropes hung beside it.

"Where are we? What are we doing here?" Harry eyed the ropes nervously. He was pointed into one of the chairs and gulped when he saw there were loop holes on the chair just the right size for the ropes.

"Sit down. We are here to test you with veritaserum, just as you asked."

Harry was pushed into the chair then held in place by the two goblin guards. His duvet was kicked out of the floor to make room. The other Goblin went to the cabinet, unlocked it and extracted a glass vial.

"Three drops is more than enough." The goblin walked back to the table, put Harry's file onto the table then pulled the stopped off the vial. There was a small pipette inside the bottle which the goblin lifted out. "Stick out your tongue wizard."

Harry swallowed then did as the goblin said, the hands holding him in place viciously dug in their fingernails threateningly. The three drops were placed on his tongue then the goblin stepped back and put the vial away.

Harry felt a little muzzy-headed. His head felt fuzzy, his mouth tasted like cotton wool and his ears could hear lots of tiny bells chiming. He blinked around blearily. The goblin moved back to the desk, sat in the other seat and pulled out a quill, an ink pot and some parchment from a drawer on the desk.

"Right then, that should be enough time for the veritaserum to take effect. Please state your name."

"Harry James Potter." The goblin's eyes narrowed.

"Hmm. Perhaps it is not working yet. What colour is my quill?"

"Black."

"What colour is the chandelier?" Harry looked up and stared.

"Well the metal bit looks gold, the lights are yellowy white…"

"State your name."

"Harry James Potter." The goblin snarled.

"How many Gringotts keys did you receive?"

"One."

"When and where?"

"On my birthday, July 31st 1991. Rubeus Hagrid gave my key to me here in Gringotts."

"Marius, fetch Gornuk! Korvug, ask Bogrun to bring inheritance paper and all necessary items to perform a blood test." The two guards released Harry and moved out of the room, the door shutting with that stomach clenching thud again.

"What? Why? What?" Harry stuttered to say, his head still feeling strange.

"Mister Potter, please tell me the events in which you lost your key."

So Harry told him, because the veritaserum allowed for no withholding, and the goblin wrote everything down. At the end of the story the goblin went back to the cabinet and retrieved the anti-serum to veritaserum. Once administered Harry felt a lot better, although he had a bit of a headache. The goblin, in a strange show of kindness goblins weren't known for, gave him a glass of water.

"It is very strange Mister Potter how your faithful narrative of events and facts differ from our perfectly kept records. Therefore I can assume one of two things. The first is our records are false which is extraordinarily unlikely, or everything you told me is the truth as you know it."

"The truth as I know it? What is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like it means. Therefore we shall be conducting a few more tests."

The few more tests turned out to include a ride on a Gringotts cart through a waterfall which the goblin, whose name was Jaxnuk, explained cancelled any enchantments or magical concealments. All eyes were on Harry as he took that test, including from the goblins that had joined them just before the cart ride, Gornuk and Bogrun, as well as the two guards Korvug and Marius. Their eyes narrowed dangerously on Harry all the way back to the room with the brass door. Harry was then made to sit in the chair and have several drops of his blood taken and spread onto parchment.

"What is this testing for?"

"This is testing for more ingrained concealment enchantments too powerful for the waterfall."

That test came out clear. The next test did not though. That test revealed any other enchantments on his person.

"It seems you are under a powerful enchantment which is preventing your metamorphmagus abilities being used. Gornuk, will break it for you, although the enchantment has already nearly broken itself. Something must have weakened it…or perhaps the person who cast it is no longer alive."

"W-what?!"

"Either way, it does not matter. Gornuk, see to it!" Gornuk held out some sort of wooden stick with a bulbous end to it at Harry.

Just as Harry was about to question what was going to happen the stick began to glow red and a wave of nausea and pain slammed through Harry's body sending him to the ground shaking and yelling. It was like he had just run into a wall, only with a lot more pain! His body felt like it was changing; curling in on itself while at the same time stretching out. Then the pain got worse. Agony started in his head. His forehead burned. His skull felt like it was being split in two!

Harry screamed.

Pain tore through his head like bludgers ripping into their target. Harry twisted, _moved_ , anything to escape it. Something hit his shoulder, his side, the side of his head, and pain exploded there too, spreading outwards as it went.

" _You failed me! You all failed me!"_ Harry could not see. He couldn't see anything except black. But he could hear. He could hear the hissing syllables as Voldemort spoke, he could feel the passing of breath vibrate his vocal cords as he uttered words.

" _Forgive us, My Lord! The Order…they were…"_

" _They were far smarter than you! You! My most trusted and skilled Death Eaters outwitted by the dregs of Dumbledore's army!"_

" _Please! Please My Lord! Forgive us. We did our best!"_

" _Crucio!"_

 _Screams rang out._ Fire tore through Harry, inescapable all-consuming fire and agony.

" _Lord Voldemort does not forgive, and he does not forget. Bella, come!"_

" _Yes my Lord, anything you need My Lord." Came the simpering lyrical voice. Love was paramount in every sound of every word._

" _Your arm Bella, I would summon my Inner Circle. It is time we moved forward with our plans."_

" _Oh yes My Lord! Of course!"_

Harry's stomach wrenched violently. The world spun back into place. His ears stopped echoing with the sound of Voldemort's sibilant tones. Bella's gushing adoration fell away and slowly Harry could hear his own breathing.

The pain ebbed away, disappeared. He could see. Goblins were looking down on him. Uneven stones pressed against his cheek, his shoulder, his side, his legs. He was on the floor. There was blood on his nose, he could see it. His scar…his scar had bled.

Harry jerked upright, sitting up straight and furiously wiping at the blood on his forehead trying to get it off. The goblins sneered as they watched but Harry continued using his sleeves to clear away the blood. He probably only smeared it, but at least it wasn't oozing everywhere anymore. When he felt he'd scrubbed enough to make his scar split open again Harry looked to the Goblins who were still staring at him impatiently and dispassionately.

"So uh…" He started, needing something to say but not really knowing what.

"If you would like to sit in your chair then we shall proceed." Jaxnuk drawled and indicated to the chair. Harry pushed himself up and wobbled. His centre of gravity felt really strange now. He stumbled back into the seat and slumped into it. Jaxnuk's squinty eyes scanned over him then glared at Harry's own eyes. "Hm."

"Uh-"

"It seems," the goblin interrupted with a disgusted look, "that while that test gave us many answers it has also given us more questions."

"What questions?" Harry blinked and then corrected himself, rubbing his head again trying to dispel the tension he felt building there. "And what answers?"

"It seems that you are indeed Harry Potter." Well yeah, Harry had told them that! "But that is only because you were made to believe it."

What?!

"What on earth does that mean?! Of course I'm Harry Potter!" Harry protested, however his protestation fell on deaf large pointed ears as the goblins, all of them, shook their heads. They all looked very grave and angry. Harry had been anxious before coming because of everything that had happened, now he felt a foreboding sense of doom. This was bad. Whatever 'this' was, it was bad. Bad for him. It had to be bad if Goblins were upset.

"The enchantments you were under prevented metamorphmagus transformation, locking you in one form."

What? Harry didn't like where this was going.

"You have to be mistaken…"

"We are Goblins. We do not make mistakes." Jaxnuk scowled, his gnarly finger twisting into the wood of the table. "You are a metamorphmagus, the enchantments placed upon you were wearing off because the caster is now deceased. Our magic I'm proud to say has broken the remnants of the enchantment, it also revealed to us a rather despicable truth. Are you aware you are carrying the shard of another beings soul?"

"I'm what?!" Soul? Another soul in him? Like…like a… "A horcrux? I'm a horcrux?"

"Ah, you were not aware. The question is whose soul is it?"

Oh god…oh god no…

"You…" Harry was going to be sick. "You don't want to know."

Jaxnuk screwed up his face disapprovingly but did nod. "Very well. We shall not delve into wizarding business. However, one thing does fall to us to correct."

"What's that?" Harry didn't want to be in Gringotts a moment longer. He was a horcrux?! How?! Why?! Didn't they have to be intentionally made? How many did Voldemort have? HE had the diary, the locket, the ring…and they suspected many more but how many? Seven…seven was Voldemort's number, a magical number. But what else? And if Harry was a horcrux but not Harry Potter then…

"Since you are not the real Harry Potter, the biggest question is who are you? And, judging from your appearance and the details revealed to us in your blood, and as you are under the age of seventeen, who is your guardian? Thus we have a few more tests for you to take. Four drops of blood onto this piece of parchment."

A large dark brown piece of parchment was placed before Harry. It looked revolting. There were circular splodges of dark brown here and there all over the parchment. The parchment curled and bulged in random places like it had gotten wet and dried in peculiar shapes then been squashed flat again.

Blood…the parchment had become wet, wet with blood. Blood turned brown after a while didn't it? Dried old blood was brown?

Harry felt the nausea churn in his belly, he gagged and ran a hand over his face. His face felt different…his hand felt different.

Metamorphmagus…oh god.

He was going to throw up. Heat burned in his throat. His stomach clenched dangerously. He felt lightheaded.

"Four drops of blood, I said." Came Jaxnuk's vapid voice, cutting through the haze of sickness that swamped Harry. Harry blinked at him, both Jaxnuk's and tried to clear his head. The goblin raised one crooked eyebrow and pursed his lips looking the epitome of disapproving. "Will you oblige or shall we help matters along?"

"I…I'll do it." Harry reached a shaky hand out for the athame on the table. Carefully he pressed the sharp end into the tip of his finger, but his shaking was so bad he ended up with a cut and blood oozed out immediately and dropped onto the parchment.

" **Only four** , I said! Not a thimbleful!" The goblin snarled and pulled the parchment away from Harry. The damage was done though. A puddle of at least six to eight drops had fallen onto the parchment, then spread out along very thin red rivers to create letters. One letter then another, then several all at once in different parts of the parchment. Slowly eight names began to form.

Harry put his finger in his mouth sucking the wound to try to help it heal. It didn't help much; he just got the tangy metallic taste of blood in his mouth instead which did not help his nausea.

"What happens if you put too much blood on it?" He dared to ask. Jaxnuk sneered at him.

"The parchment gets wet." Oh, was that all? "And too many names appear, makes it harder to work out who you are related to most."

"Oh. You can tell from that? How?"

"Every witch or wizard, when opening a vault is required to donate a single drop of blood to Gringotts. It means we can keep track of inheritances in the event of a death without a will, or silly little wizards who don't know their true parentage."

But Harry did know his true parentage! He didn't care who made him, he was Lily and James' child. He had heard their screams as they died. He had Lily's eyes and James' hair and face. He had Lily's sense of what was right, and James' skill on a broom. He was Lily and James Potter's son! He was!

But what if he had parents who were alive? That thought came unbidden, unwelcome, and yet the whisper in the back of his mind may as well have been a scream. All his thoughts came to a halt. All his denials, all his stress, all his terror, everything game screeching to a halt. What if he had family?

What if he had parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins…what if he had people who would want him?!

Harry leaned forwards trying to see the words on the piece of parchment. He was completely torn but the nausea was bubbling hot with excitement and dread now too. He couldn't hold himself back. He was James and Lily's son, but if he had family…he had to know. He had to.

As he leaned forwards his chest bumped into the desk, hurting far more than it should. Distractedly Harry raised his hand to rub at the area and continued to lean forwards.

He rubbed at soft flesh. Soft, plentiful flesh covered in clothes.

Harry froze. His eyes bulged. His mouth hung open, he knew it did. His breathing came to an abrupt halt. Every cell in his body stopped and waited.

His chest had never been soft. It wasn't hard like some of the older boys' chests had been; nor was it like the models on TV that Dudley and Vernon commented about being fake. No, it had never been rock hard. But it had never been soft. And there had never been as much there as before.

Metamorphmagus.

No. No. No way!

No way!

Oh please no.

Harry shut his eyes. There was buzzing in his ears now. He shook his head. No, it couldn't be. He was imagining it. He was paranoid! No way!

If he opened his eyes he'd look down and see his imagination was running wild. It was the stress. It couldn't possibly be what he thought it was. No way! Not possible! Not at all! He just had to look, confirm it. It wasn't real. He was crazy because of the stress.

He'd had a bad day. He was shaken up. Paranoid, imagining things, do-laly-pip! Nuts.

He opened his eyes. He looked down.

No…no not nuts…not nuts at all.

He had breasts.

Black and purple stars swam before his eyes.

His stomach clenched.

"Ah. Parents are Rodophus and Bellatrix LeStrange. That could present a problem."

No bloody way.

The buzzing took over his hearing. Heat erupted from his belly. The world tilted on its axis. His vision blacked out

Harry went crashing down, down, down.


	2. Chapter 2

Reflection Chapter 2

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profits from posting this fanfiction.

 **Summary:** Meeting oneself is a strange experience. But meeting yourself, a self who attacks you, is stranger still and it leads Harry on a journey of discovery into the truth about himself and the other Harry. What path will he choose - to help or hinder Voldemort?

 **Warnings:** Slash. Character death. Murder, violence, fighting. Drugging. Control. Manipulation.

 **Pairings:** OC/NL, HP/GW

* * *

 **July 28** **th** **, 3pm**

The world came back to Harry a little at a time.

First came his awareness of the soft area he was lying on and sheets around him. He was on a bed. It was amazingly soft and smelled clean. Not his bed then. He hadn't been allowed to wash the sheets at all during summer. He wondered if they'd ever been cleaned because his aunt didn't even step foot in his room when he was at Hogwarts.

The next thing he became aware of was a flickering light. He cracked his eyelids open and slowly the world spun into view. The visual input waking up his muzzy thoughts more quickly than anything else. The room was silent except for breathing. Harry blinked around to see if he was alone, he was. Alone in a small room, and it wasn't a bed he was lying on; it was a sofa decked out in sheets and a duvet. The lights he could see were floating candles next to stone walls.

It looked like he was in a staff room. There was a table along the back wall, the wall opposite the large imposing Gringotts door. The table had some boxes with breads, fruits and other foods in. There were cups next to jugs of water and a few tea pots with cups on saucers placed delicately around them.

Harry huffed and rubbed his head. Great, he thought sarcastically then glanced around the room again. He'd had a shit day, some shit news, had obviously passed out and now he'd woken alone.

Well.

Harry paused, his memory from earlier resounded through his brain and he looked down.

Yeah. They were still there. No mistaking it.

If they had been a little smaller perhaps he could have mistaken them, but not at that size. They were most definitely breasts. They weren't as big as Lavender Brown's, thank _god_! But they weren't small either. They created enough of a bulge to be unmistakable.

God.

Harry ran a hand through his hair again then reached down to check one other part of himself…he'd gotten used to having a dick but suddenly not having one made him feel completely bereft! He was missing a part of himself. He wasn't himself. Not at all!

No. He was somebody else.

He wasn't Harry Potter anymore. He…She…no that was too hard. He was not who he thought he was. He'd just lived as Harry Potter.

And then the real Harry Potter came back. That was whom he had seen with Moody and Dumbledore. The real Harry Potter, not him. He was the fake one. Why? Why was he the fake one?! Why had he been forced to be the fake Harry Potter? Why did they need a fake Harry Potter?! Was it…was it because of the prophecy?

'Born as the seventh month dies' and all that crap had clearly put a target on baby Harry. His Dumbledore had said so, that was why Voldemort had gone after the Potter's. Marked him as his equal…well Harry had the scar…did the other Harry have the scar? He had Voldemort in his head, what about the other Harry?

'Power the Dark Lord knows not'? What was that? Dumbledore didn't know. Harry didn't know. Although he had once suspected it was Harry's ability to hear and see what Voldemort was doing. But that wasn't a power…that was a horcrux.

He was a horcrux.

Did Dumbledore know? He had to! That man knew _everything_! He knew everything and never told Harry _anything_! So that meant Dumbledore had to know and so…and…

Horcrux had to be destroyed.

He had to be destroyed.

That was why they brought the new…the old Harry in! Because Harry was a horcrux and he had to be killed so they needed the other Harry to take back his life…the life Harry had been leading for him, the dangerous life that Harry had survived by the skin of his teeth…the horrible childhood, the terrifying first year, the awful second year, the seemingly quiet but awful third year, the deadly fourth year, the god awful fifth year, the horrible sixth year…

Harry had been a pawn all along.

A pawn to live instead of the other Harry. A pawn to die. A weapon. A diversion. A distraction. He was cannon fodder. The other Harry was being held back just waiting for the moment to take over.

And why? Why?! How?!

Because of Harry's blood. He was a metamorphmagus. A metamorphmagus that Dumbledore had trapped in Harry's form. Oh it had to be Dumbledore! The goblins said whoever had cast the spells had died which meant the spells were breaking.

Unless it was Moody… Harry thought on that one for a moment. The ropes at Privet Drive had fallen away, no doubt Moody cast those. That meant he was probably dead. Harry couldn't see Moody's spell work fading over time because of ill casting or lack of power, especially not over short periods of time. And that other Dumbledore probably wasn't a lightweight wizard either. Albus Dumbledore didn't have to be involved.

Maybe Harry was making assumptions!

Jumping to conclusions!

Albus was good. He did everything for the Greater Good. He helped Harry as much as he could and…

But he knew Harry was a horcrux!

He had to have been in on it all. Moody could have cast the spells but Dumbledore had to have known! Albus Dumbledore knew almost _everything_! Which meant he knew about Harry and the other Harry!

How could he?! How could he put anyone through any of that?

For the Greater Good.

He did it for the Greater Good; to bring down Voldemort. Albus had known Voldemort would come back. Well, clearly, because Albus knew about the horcrux's! He knew. And he used Harry because…because Harry was…was a metamorphmagus.

A metamorphmagus isn't made, it's born: a natural genetic skill that ran in the Black family.

Harry was…Harry was the child of Bellatrix. The goblin had said it. He had! Harry wasn't imagining it! He was the child of Bellatrix…

The daughter…

He was a girl…he had breasts.

The child of Bellatrix, the crazy, sadistic, evil witch Bellatrix and her equally mad husband Rodophus LeStrange.

Harry felt tears welling up in his eyes and torrid anger fill every part of him. Anger and hate and loathing all boiled up inside like a dragon, untamed and wild. Harry threw back the blankets over him and stood up. He paced and stomped through the room. He had no shoes on, they were put neatly on a chair with his jacket. He almost put them on just to feel like his stomping was having more of an effect but cursed himself for being childish.

Then he cursed himself again for giving into anger and threw himself into a chair. The tears would not stop though. As much as his brief rage has concealed them as angry tears, now the acid burning in his chest felt more like heart break than fury.

He had been used. He was a pawn. He was a pawn they were using until the time came that he either got himself killed, or they had to kill him. His friends wouldn't know the real Harry from him, they wouldn't know and didn't know. He doubted they would have been told unless they were in on it all from the start. He had nobody now. He was alone. Absolutely alone.

With crazed parents working for the ultimate evil he had spent his whole life so far fighting against.

Alone in a world of death eaters and dark lords.

"Ah good, you are awake." Harry leapt up at the voice. So consumed by his thoughts, he hadn't noticed the door open and allow a few Goblins in. Jaxnuk was with them, beady eyes skewering Harry to the spot. It wasn't like Harry could do anything. He was defenceless. He had no wand.

"Umm…yeah."

"Hmph. It's about time. Now then, we have approached your closest relative. Mrs Malfoy will be here shortly to collect you. In the mean time I suggest you clean yourself up and gather your belongings."

"Mrs Malfoy is coming?! But she's…" Harry started to protest but the Goblin scowled and interrupted him.

"Mrs Malfoy is coming because she is your only living relative able to come. We considered contacting Mrs Andromeda Tonks however as she was struck off your family tree and disinherited from the Black family we were unable to contact her. You are under aged and therefore need a guardian. Mrs Malfoy is the only acceptable candidate."

"I'm underaged? But I turn seventeen in a few days and…"

"No, _you_ turn seventeen on December 31st."

"But how…"

The goblin clearly wasn't interested in anything Harry had to say with his awkward stuttering. Instead the goblin produced a scroll that looked to be in perfect condition, if only a little old. It had no wrinkles, no creases, nothing to say it have ever been opened, or at least not opened many times. The goblin held the scroll out to Harry who took it suspiciously.

"Your birth certificate. We tested your blood again whilst you slept to be certain the results of the Parental Test were accurate after your spill of blood. The results proved true however, thus we found your birth certificate and set about combing your family tree for the nearest blood relative who has not been incarcerated for various reasons. Now, get cleaned up. Mrs Malfoy will be here shortly after 3.15pm."

Harry paid no mind to the goblin that turned sharply on his heel and strode out of the room. He was staring with horrified fascination at the scroll in his hands. That scroll would make everything a reality…an official reality.

Harry scoffed at himself. As if this was anything but a reality. There was no doubting what was going on. He'd had bloods taken and tested, he'd had spells on his person removed and suffered through incredible pain in the process. It hadn't woken him up. No. This was reality. And as horrible as it was, it was his life.

And the start of his life was documented on that scroll. His real life. Not his fake one.

With shaking fingers he pulled open the scroll, extending it out to its full and impressive length.

 _ **Date of Birth: 31**_ _ **st**_ _ **of December, 1981, 5.13am.**_

 _ **Name: Mirabella LeStrange**_

 _ **Mother: Bellatrix LeStrange. Father: Rodolphus LeStrange.**_

 _ **Place of Birth: St Mungo's.**_

 _ **Place of Residence: Unknown. Suitable foster care has yet to be arranged. Cannot reside with parents due to their incarceration.**_

And there it was then. In black and white. Plain and simple.

Harry was really Mirabella LeStrange.

* * *

 **28** **th** **July, 4pm.**

"Come in please, my dear." Narcissa, as she was to be called since Harry refused to call her 'Aunt', ushered Harry into the living room. Harry had taken tentative steps in and around the manor since arriving fifteen minutes ago. Voldemort was close, his scar was sore and hot, and he didn't know when he would meet his parents.

The living room was blissfully empty however, so Harry entered carefully not touching anything until arriving at a chaise lounge and Narcissa exclaimed for him to sit and be comfortable.

"I imagine this has all been quite a shock to you. The goblins did not see fit to provide me with an accurate detail of events leading to your discovery; only that you had been found and have spent all your life believing you were somebody different. They did inform me of the spells cast on you which altered your true form to that of another and that they removed those spells earlier this morning. Tell me, have you got any means to contact the family that raised you?"

"No." Harry shook his head. Long curling black strands of hair slipped over his eyes and he had to push them back several times.

"Ah. What about friends who need to be contacted?"

"No." No friends. Harry had friends…but Mirabella had none. Hermione and Ron didn't know…couldn't know. Neither could Ginny, the Weasleys, Luna, Neville… _especially_ Neville!

"Anybody at all?" Narcissa prodded gently again, one blonde eyebrow arching questioningly. Her blue eyes were as cold as the arctic but there was something almost consoling, perhaps even sympathising, in her gaze. Funny, Harry didn't think her capable of sympathy of any sort.

Perhaps Voldemort's occupation of her home had humbled her.

Harry shuddered.

"No. Nobody."

"Oh dear." That almost sounded honest, she actually looked regretful too. Harry felt his eyebrows furrow. This Narcissa wasn't the one he knew, expected.

Narcissa took a rejuvenating breath and sat up straighter in her chair, hands folded neatly in her lap as she adjusted the rest of her poise to be perfect.

"In that case there are things you should know…" Harry cut her off. There was no need for her to tell him things he already knew.

"I know you are housing Voldemort and his followers. And I know that the other Death Eaters including B-…Bellatrix are here too."

"Ah." The woman looked a little thrown for the loop for a second then that eyebrow rose again and her eyes narrowed. "And how exactly do you 'know' this?"

"The same way I know that Mister Malfoy's wand was lent to Voldemort and that your family hasn't exactly been happy hosting Voldemort here. Harry Potter."

The woman nodded slowly, lips slightly pursed as suspicious eyes looked Harry up and down. Harry didn't know what the woman was looking for, it wasn't like he was in much of a position to lie. Harry felt completely drained, although fear and anticipation kept sending spikes of adrenaline through him. His heart beat hadn't slowed down since the Jaxnuk announced Narcissa was coming to pick him up, and his breathing wasn't exactly calm and regular. Harry felt quite sick. Doomed…

"I see. You were friends with Harry Potter then?"

Harry laughed mirthlessly. Friends…

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On what you call friends."

"Were you romantically involved with him then?"

"Eww! No! What-?! What the hell?!"

"Mind your language my girl!" The reprimand was sharp, all ice and glass shards. Harry could have ignored the tone, but the word 'girl' really threw him for six. Mirabella…a girl. A Metamorphmagus girl who spent his life as a boy.

Harry slumped back in his chair and ran a hand through still unruly hair. Slumped as he was there was no mistaking his chest, once flat and now…not. Still hidden behind the many layers of boys clothes Harry's chest wasn't completely noticeable, but to somebody so used to seeing something else when they looked down it was a major change. He was a metamorphmagus though. If he could control that skill then he could change his size. Well, if.

"Now. Even knowing what you do know there are some things I should inform you of. The Dark Lord is to be addressed with respect. Daughter of my sister or not, disrespect will not be tolerated by her or the Dark Lord himself. Friends with Harry Potter or not, be very careful how you make your allegiances known. Siding with Potter will have you killed. I do not know the kind of home you were raised in, but I expect you to understand that you are a pureblood and as such there are certain levels of decorum to be observed. Mudbloods and halfbloods are beneath you, you are a pureblood. You will have no association-"

"Says the woman who calls a halfblood psychopath 'Master'."

Harry couldn't stop the words. The drivel Narcissa was spouting was ridiculous and it was the most spiteful thing Harry could think of to say.

The drivel stopped. And the look on Narcissa's face would have been hilarious if the woman didn't already have her wand in her hand.

"What?" The words were whispered, disbelief coloured every consonant.

Harry squirmed then crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the woman. "Didn't know, huh? Your precious Dark Lord's real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. He's a half blood. Pureblood crazy mother Merope Gaunt, and muggle father Thomas Riddle."

"That…that is propaganda and…"

"Yeah but who's to say it isn't the truth. His whole name can be muddled up to make I am Lord Voldemort. Convenient huh?"

"I don't believe…" Narcissa started but those suspicious eyes only narrowed more and the clever lady must have seen something in Harry because she raised her wand up and instead of casting a spell she wrote I Am Lord Voldemort into the air. With a flick of her wand the letters rearranged to say Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Shocked blue eyes looked at Harry, the words floating innocently in the air between them. The usually poised and refined lady looked very ruffled and out of sorts. Her mouth was open from the small gasp she took as the letters did indeed confirm Harry's words. Her eyes were wide and her face quite pale.

"I…"

POP! A house elf appeared in the room. He was covered in wounds; from scratches and gashes to full blown slices and an angry pus seeping sore on his shoulder.

"Mistress," he simpered with such a low bow his long pointed nose scraped the ground. "Master and Master's guests are home."

"Get away elf! Fetch tea and luncheon! NOW!" She yelled and the elf pleaded his apologies and his 'right away Mistress' then disappeared with another POP.

Narcissa flew out of her seat and strode across the rug to sit on the chaise lounge next to Harry. The abrupt movement had Harry upright and ready, muscles ready to move any second. Narcissa reached out and grabbed his arm with a death grip betraying strength in those birdlike hands and fingers.

"Be careful what you give away, my girl. I warn you now. If you wish to survive what is yet to come then you will need to guard your words and watch your mind. Disrespect will not be tolerated."

"And? I knew the minute the goblins told me who my parents were that I wouldn't live to the end of the week."

Narcissa's fingers gripped tighter, blue eyes spearing deep into Harry's and her expression so completely serious that her next words pierced though Harry's soul. "I just discovered I have a niece, I do not wish to lose you now."

"You don't know me."

"Blood matters. You are my blood."

"CISSY! CISSY WHERE ARE YOU?!" A shrill, childlike voice sang. The door slammed open and sharp footsteps came closer. "Ah, Cissy! I…who's that?"

"Bellatrix." Narcissa rose to her feet blocking Harry's view of Bellatrix LeStrange, his mother…her mother. It was a blessing really that her view was blocked because Harry did not know how to deal with this situation.

"Cissy, who is that?" The words were sharp, each word punctuated with demanding petulance.

"I had a missive to go to Hogwarts. It seemed I had a niece I knew nothing about."

"A niece…of course you have a niece. Some muddy half blood from that treacherous sister of ours." The words were spat with disgust. Harry would have worried for the carpet.

"No, not Andromeda's daughter. It seems, Bella, that secrets have been kept a little too well."

"Not Andromeda? Secrets? What secrets?!" There was some shuffling of feet and Narcissa countered Bellatrix's movements by moving to stand in front of Harry. All Harry could see was the back of the smart black robe coat she was wearing, the decoration around the hem was silver and green silk threading weaving left and right of each other, then danced around in swirls before continuing along and twirling.

"Why did you never tell me you had a daughter Bella?"

"A daughter? I had…" The words were incredulous and angry. Then her tone changed immediately to soft and confused. "Oh. But she died. Sickly little thing, died a week after her birth. Nothing of consequence really."

"They told you she had died?"

"Yes. At St Mungo's. From being around too many dementors I expect. Not good for a growing foetus. Now, what is all this about Cissy?"

"Here." Narcissa dropped her hand to her pocket and pulled out the scroll with Harry's birth certificate on it. With a huff and an impatient tap of her boot, because it had to be Bellatrix's boot as Narcissa was standing stock still, there was the sound of the scroll being unravelled.

"Yes, yes, I named her Mirabella."

"Interesting choice of name."

"Not really. Mira's a star in the Cetus constellation, and Bella because the baby looked the spitting image of me as a babe. I thought it was rather approp…don't think this will distract me Cissy! How did you get that birth certificate anyway? And who is that you are hiding?!"

Narcissa was shoved aside by the impatient Madam LeStrange and it brought Harry and Sirius' killer eye to eye for the first since the Ministry. He had seen her in his visions of course. Her hair was still as wild as usual, her eyes still dark and crazed, her skin just as pale. Her robes were better now, not as messy and torn as they had been. She was looking a little more composed, though still as mad as a hatter.

As insane as Bellatrix was there was no doubting that the woman was clever.

"Ah…" Bellatrix's anger disappeared into shock. The woman cast a sketching look over Harry, flashing eyes taking in everything including his clothes which got a sneer. Bellatrix traced Harry's face though, scrutinising it with a clever glare. Then her eyes flicked to Narcissa and then to the parchment scroll.

"It seems," Narcissa said when no other words were forthcoming from Bellatrix or Harry, "you were lied to Bella. The goblins discovered Mirabella just this morning. She had nobody to turn to. In fact, she only discovered her true form a few hours ago. She has no knowledge of you, or us, or indeed herself. She is quite amazing."

"And h-how…how did she get to Gringotts in the first place?" Bellatrix asked and Narcissa's gaze turned to Harry expecting him…her…to answer. It took a second for Harry to find his voice and even then he had to clear his throat twice before being capable of speech.

"The usual way." Not the most helpful words and it earned him identical glares from Narcissa and Bellatrix. "Through Diagon Alley."

"And how did you get there?" Bellatrix's words were suspicious and she started waving her wand around in front of Harry casting various spells. Harry flinched every time the spells were cast, every time that wand flicked. He couldn't take his eyes off the wand, short and crocked as it was.

"I walked."

"From where?"

"Surrey."

Bellatrix froze, then in a second the wand was pointed directly between Harry's eyes.

"Which part of Surrey?"

Harry cast a glance to Narcissa whose face was ashen. He wasn't going to lie. "Privet Drive."

Bellatrix snarled and stepped forwards jabbing her wand between Harry's eyes so hard Harry could already feel the bruise.

"Quite the impressive light show last night." He babbled.

"What were you doing at Privet Drive?"

"R…" Harry swallowed as the wand even began to glow. He closed his eyes. He wasn't going to live long. Not now. It didn't even matter what he said, so he settled on the first thing that came to mind. "Running away."

"From what?! You better start making sense girl!" His skin began to tingle, spikes of pain crackling through his skull. He gritted his teeth.

"From the Order! I was running away from the Order."

"Why?!"

"They…they came to take Harry Potter last night. I…they tried to kidnap me or kill me or something! I got away. I went to Gringotts to get some money but they didn't believe I was who I said I was when I told them I didn't have my key. They took me to a room, did some blood tests and removed the spells then I found out who I was and who you were. That's it. That's all I know."

The wand was removed and Bellatrix stepped back, back straight and peering down on Harry like he was a bug of some kind.

"And the goblins gave you this?" She flapped the birth certificate in the air, eyes never leaving Harry. Harry nodded.

"Yeah. They tested my blood twice then found my birth certificate and contacted Mrs…Narcissa."

There was silence in the room. Narcissa looked worried. Bellatrix looked cagey and didn't take her eyes off Harry for a second. Harry just felt his heart beat in his neck, in his ear lobes and on the newly forming bruise between his eyes. He knew he wouldn't survive the week but he wasn't thinking he would die quite so soon.

Bella suddenly started clapping her hands together like an over excited child and bouncing on the spot.

"HAHA! Look Cissy! Look! Doesn't she look so much like me! A Bella mini-me!" Bella suddenly crowed before dashing over to Narcissa and standing behind her, peering over Narcissa's shoulder and pointing at Harry. "Look! She's got my hair, my cheekbones, my skin! She's a mirror of me! Mirror-Bella! She's got Rodolphus' eyes, shame about that but I suppose she had to inherit something from him. She's a bit short isn't she?! And those clothes are dreadful! But Cissy! Look! Look Cissy! I have a daughter! She looks just like me! Oh! Oh I have to tell our Lord! Oh such good news, yes…yes he must be told right away!"

"Don't you think you should give your daughter a chance to settle in before introducing her to our Lord? After all Mirabella has just been found. She has just discovered she has family alive, after being alone and confused for so long."

"Alone? Why alone?"

"The order…" Harry began, trying to explain his theory behind everything. He owed them no loyalty after all. And if he was going to see Voldemort then there was no way Voldemort wouldn't know. He'd read Harry's mind and know. "They kept me hidden from everyone."

"Yes! Yes those kidnapping, mudblood, muggle loving blood traitors! Our Lord must be told! Oh yes he must! I shall tell him! I shall!" Bellatrix danced off to the door, wand flicking agitatedly around in her excitement.

"And what of Mirabella?" The cold and collected voice of Narcissa made Bellatrix freeze in her step then spin around a considering look on her face. Narcissa must have read something on Bellatrix' face because she laid a careful hand on Harry's shoulder. "How about Mirabella stays with me, I shall help her get cleaned up and dressed in appropriate attire while you inform our Lord?"

"Oh that's a good plan. Baby Mini-Bella wants to stay with Aunty Cissy?" The bay sing song voice was back and Harry nearly scowled, only catching himself last minute and nodding instead. Bellatrix grinned her insanity making the grin too wide for her face. "Go play dress up with Aunty then. Mummy will go and speak to our Lord."

* * *

Dress up with Narcissa was a painful affair. Narcissa barely spoke and for the most part looked rather pained as she handed over various female dress robes to Harry to put on. The silence was just as grating as the body language, both of them tense and uncomfortable. They mechanically handed over or took things, and stiffly went about moving around. The only time Narcissa was relaxed was when she had Harry sat on a stool in front of a dressing table and patiently brushed through Harry's long, wild locks of hair. Harry only relaxed when Narcissa eventually agreed she could borrow flat shoes, not the high heels Narcissa had originally offered her.

So, in borrowed clothes with hair neatly brushed, Harry was led downstairs feeling exhausted and dejected. He was off to see Voldemort. 5 minutes was such a short time when it was all you had yet to live.

"Good luck Mirabella." Narcissa said at the bottom of the stairs after they had caught a glimpse of an excited, bouncing and cackling Bellatrix. Rodolphus was there too, as was Rabastan LeStrange. They were all stood by a set of double doors that Harry understood led to one of the ball rooms of Malfoy Manor.

"See?! SEE?! Doesn't she look like me Rodolphus? My mirror image! Look!" Bellatrix rushed over to Harry who jumped back immediately, not that Bellatrix noticed. Bellatrix snagged her by the arm, hauled her next to Bellatrix so the entire sides of their bodies touched. Then Bellatrix leaned her head against Harry's shoulder and crooned again. "Look! My look-a-like!"

"Yes, isn't she beautiful?" Narcissa offered, silently gliding over to the two men. Both men seemed to clench their jaws at Narcissa's question and it took a second for Harry to realise why. When she realised she could have chuckled.

"Yes, quite beautiful." Rodolphus answered quickly.

"The two beauties of the LeStrange family. LeStrange Belles!" Rabastan offered then broke off into a coughing laugh.

"I had of course hoped for a son." Rodolphus declared. "An heir."

"Then you should have sired one!" Bellatrix snapped angrily at him. "You should count yourself lucky I allowed the union that conceived her to take place at all!"

"Bella!" Narcissa snapped and gave Bellatrix a meaningful look that Harry really didn't understand. Bellatrix must have read something in it though because she immediately turned to Harry and threw her arms around him…her.

"Not that you weren't wanted, my little Bella! Of course you were! Such a beautiful Bella for a beautiful Bella. Mummy wanted you very much sweetness!" Harry felt very crushed against Bellatrix's taller form, caught in the death grip of his…her 'mother'. "Such a beautiful Bella!"

The double doors opened and out walked a dirty faced, dirty robed, scruffy looking Lucius Malfoy. His hair was unkempt, his jaw and chin covered in patchy bristles where an uneven beard was beginning to form, and grey eyes flat and devoid of emotion. He managed a light smile for his wife who immediately drew to his side and took his hands in hers. All their hands clasped together in unity, support, and, dare Harry think it, love, their heads bowed together, Harry could very well believe that behind the ridiculous beliefs and skewed morals, the Malfoys were actually a very affectionate and stable family.

"Th-th-the Dark L-lord will see you n-now Bella." Lucius said, speaking softly and with a barely noticeable hesitation behind his words.

"Ah! Good. Before we go in then, Lucius – doesn't my daughter look beautiful." Bellatrix prompted. Lucius swallowed then nodded jerkily.

"Sh-she does you credit Bellatrix, she is radiant. My day is infinitely better, and my world all the more beautiful, for having met you my dear niece." Lucius offered with a sincere smile and a nod of his head.

Harry, despite everything, felt blood pool in his cheeks.

"Still as smarmy as ever Lucius." Rabastan sneered. Lucius gave him an unimpressed look and held his head regally high so he could look down on the man. For the first time in several months, if Harry included his visions, Lucius Malfoy looked like he had his old sense of pride and self-importance back again.

"Charisma is a skill I, unlike others, do not lack."

"Come mini-Bella! We have to introduce you to the Dark Lord, he must not be kept waiting. No, no. Never kept waiting." Bellatrix's hold on her arm became severe and she dragged Harry forwards towards the doors. Harry's scar began to burn the closer they got.

This was it. He wouldn't live long now. Malfoy Manor was the last place he would see.

Narcissa's almost kind smile was the last bit of kindness he'd ever witness.

At least he was dressed for a funeral, since the dress robes Narcissa had forced him into were black.

And at least she didn't have to put up with being a girl for much longer. It was good in a way…and that would leave them one horcrux down. Perhaps Ron and Hermione would be able to hunt the others down really easily.

Harry didn't really observe the room he was walking into. He just allowed himself to be dragged by the eager Bellatrix. He heard feet walking behind him, heard people breathing to the sides of him, and knew there were many eyes on him. Still, he kept his eyes on the floor for now. He didn't need to see them. But he was no coward. He would meet his death eye to eye.

Bellatrix's tugging desisted. A man drew level with Harry on his other side. Harry did spare him a glance and saw it was Rodolphus, his (her) apparent father. She was rather thankful to not look a bit like him. He was ghostly pale, but with circular red hues on top of sharp cheekbones. He wasn't an ugly man, but he was so gaunt it was almost scary. He looked more skeletal than anyone Harry had ever seen.

"My Lord! My Lord! May I introduce to you my daughter, Mirabella." Bellatrix simpered then bowed. She tried to pull Harry down into the bow but Harry snagged his arm back and raised his chin defiantly, making sure to look up at Voldemort so he knew Harry wasn't going to cower or simper.

Voldemort's face a split second ago had been nonchalant and disinterested. Now it contorted with anger.

"Ah yes. Daughter. Do you not know manners girl?" Voldemort didn't wait for an answer. "Let me educate you. Show respect! It is polite to bow before ones betters upon introduction."

"I don't see anybody better than me here." Harry stated which earned him a slap from Bellatrix, gasps from various people in the audience, and a sneer from Voldemort.

"Oh? And what do you see?" Voldemort sneered, his borrowed wand in his spindly fingers as he slowly approached Harry like a snake slithering towards its prey.

Harry steeled himself. He wasn't afraid to die. But he wasn't ashamed to admit he didn't want to feel the torture curse.

"I see a walking corpse, half dead already and only _half_ clinging to life because he took the blood of a _half_ blood _boy_ he failed to kill a grand total of 5 times."

Harry made sure to put extra pressure into the word 'half' every time he said it. If for no other reason than he had the sick pleasure of calling Voldemort out before his followers for what he truly was, without actually saying it. He knew now that Voldemort hadn't used a 'half-blood's' blood, because he'd used Harry's, who was really a pureblood. But Voldemort didn't know that, so the barb would work.

"Crucio!" Voldemort spat.

Pain. _Agony_. It erupted on every millimetre of skin. Every bone flamed with searing pain. His head felt like it was going to burst apart, his every thought exploding from his mind till all he could think off was the pain. White hot knives pierced his body. Every ounce of his being contorting with pain. He knew he was screaming. He could hear it. He could _feel_ it; one more pain to add to the rest.

And then it was gone, and he was looking up into grinning faces of Voldemort and the other Death Eaters.

"Now girl, you will have better manners, or I shall be forced to cast the spell on you again and we wouldn't want that now would we?"

"Why not?! That's all you're good for isn't it?! Killing and hurting people!"

The cruciatus curse boiled over Harry once again. His world descended into white hot pain, excruciating and all consuming.

When it ended Harry was panting and had the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. He had bitten his tongue and blood was pooling in his mouth. He wiped the small river of blood from his chin with his sleeve and pushed himself to sit up. He levelled a glare at Voldemort who merely raised an eyebrow tauntingly.

"Like I said, it's all you're good for _Tom!_ " Harry spat, his blood spraying forwards a little.

"Why you-!"

"Bella! Enough!" Voldemort bellowed as Bellarrix started battering Harry.

Bellatrix ceased immediately stammering apologies and bowing subserviently. Voldemort stepped close, so close his robes brushed Harry's face. Harry pushed back disgusted and alarmed with how close Voldemort was. His scar was burning something fierce. It felt hot and sore, like at any moment it would split open. He barely resisted pressing his hand to it in an effort to cool it off, to sooth it somehow.

"How do you know that name?" Voldemort whispered; his voice dangerously sharp despite the volume.

"I know many things Tom Marvolo Riddle." Harry sneered and Voldemort's eyes widened momentarily. "Including how much of a magpie for artefacts you are, and all about a certain conversation with Slughorn."

Voldemort's eyes suddenly became piercing and Harry felt speared to the spot. His demonic red eyes seared through to Harry's soul and Harry knew what Voldemort was doing, he knew it and for once welcomed it. He had no loyalties now, not really. He wasn't Harry anymore. He was the daughter of Bellatrix LeStrange, Voldemort's most avid and devoted follower. Harry still hated Voldemort, loathed him with a passion and would happily dance over the man's death along with the rest of the wizarding world. But Harry knew nothing of significance now, Voldemort would find nothing interesting or useful in the fight against the Light; in the fight against the other Harry, the real Harry. He'd only…

Horcrux.

He'd know Harry was a horcrux!

That would be…

Would that be so bad? It might mean he'd live…Voldemort wouldn't kill his own horcrux would he? No…no he wouldn't. But since the horcrux was in Harry wouldn't that mean he'd keep Harry around…alive and around, but in what state? Oh Merlin. Harry would rather die.

Those blood red eyes blinked, eye contact was broken, and Voldemort staggered a half step backwards. His serpentine face contorted through so many different emotions that it was peculiar to watch. He said nothing. He merely frowned, then sneered, then relaxed, only to frown or grimace again.

"My Lord, I am so very sorry, so very sorry, my daughter is such a disgrace. I shall _teach_ her my Lord! Or if it pleases you my Lord I will kill her for you! Sacrifice her to your wondrous name and…"

"Bella! That is enough." Voldemort snapped. "She is not to die!"

"Of course My Lord! Of course, whatever you say!"

"She is not to be harmed!" Voldemort roared, spinning around to glare at all his Death Eaters as he went. People bowed, simpered, or fell to their knees before the wizard. "That girl is to be kept safe, kept healthy. No harm is to come to her. Do you understand?!"

"Yes My Lord" chorused around the room and Voldemort gave a sharp nod and approached Harry again, reaching down to cup Harry's chin. Harry's scar seared with pain and something began to dribble down his forehead.

"Oh no, nothing is to befall you. You will be kept safe, kept hidden, and kept very much alive. You Mirabella," he said the name with an extra flick of his tongue on the 'l', caressing the name almost lovingly, "are one of my most _precious_ possessions."

The pain in Harry's head became so great Harry had to press a hand to his scar. His hand slipped over his skin, he was obviously bleeding. Voldemort released Harry and stepped back again, wand sliding into his sleeve. Harry sagged, in relief or disappointment he didn't know. He was to be kept alive, kept _safe_. No harm could come to a horcrux of course. Voldemort went through such pains to ensure his other artefacts were protected – Harry shuddered remembering the Inferi in the lake and the crazed, pleading and despairing look in Dumbledore's face as Harry force fed him that potion. Harry would be kept, stored, hidden and protected.

Harry would live.

How would they bring down Voldemort now if Harry was alive?

"Narcissa, Lucius, young Mirabella is to be housed here in your manor. I trust you give your hospitality willingly." That was not a question, nor was it meant to be inferred as such.

"Of course my Lord, our niece is most welcome at our manor."

"Good. She seems to have had an unfortunate upbringing, it would be best to see that rectified."

"Of course my Lord."

"She is to be your shadow Narcissa, I expect her to never leave your sight."

"Of course my Lord." Narcissa agreed, head bowed.

"My Lord? What about me my lord? She is my daughter." Bellatrix asked, simpering and crouching close to the floor like a wounded animal.

"You will be too busy Bellatrix, your work is much more important. Narcissa has little better to do, she can educate her niece. I have need of you and Rodolphus."

The pleasure that oozed from every pore of Bellatrix at those words was sickening.

"Of course my Lord. Thank you My Lord."

"Leave me now. All of you leave! My time cannot be wasted with your presence any longer. GO!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profits from posting this fanfiction.

 **Summary:** Having lived till 17, it was a shock to go about his day and meet himself. Another him who attacked him. From there the day got stranger; his identity revealed what choice will Harry Potter's reflection take – help or defeat Voldemort?

 **Warnings:** Slash. Character death. Murder, violence, fighting. Drugging. Control. Manipulation.

 **Pairings:** OC/NL, HP/GW

* * *

Reflection Chapter 3

 **July 30** **th** **.**

Two days. Two whole horrible days. Harry hadn't been allowed to leave the room he'd been given.

Well, that was untrue.

Harry was collected from his rooms by Narcissa for meals but then taken straight back to them once the meal was finished. Sometimes Narcissa would talk, other times not. No words of Voldemort had been made, no talk of Bellatrix either or any of Harry's other family members. The only time Harry had to put up with any mention of their name was when a house elf delivered a letter from Bellatrix, Roolphus or Rabastan each day. Harry did read the letters, if only out of morbid curiosity or to kill the boredom of being locked up.

The letters all started with 'My dearest Mirabella', or 'My Sweetest Bella', or 'My baby Bella'. It felt really weird reading that and knowing it was for him…well _her_ Harry supposed. He might have loathed the people who wrote it, and who signed off 'Mother', 'Mummy' or 'Your Father', but that didn't mean it wasn't a good feeling to have people who liked him. He didn't think them capable of love. But for someone who had been raised with no parents it was nice to have people claim him as theirs, and to address him with affection even if it was only minimal at best.

Bellatrix had scolded him in her letters for the vicious words against the Dark Lord. However, oddly, Bellatrix understood as her Lord had explained that her daughter had a most _unfortunate_ upbringing and had been raised to hate them all. She had informed Harry that she would educate her daughter on the proper respect and the proper duties of a pureblood descendent of noble houses with Old Blood. Harry was to learn appropriate adoration and respect for the Dark Lord too.

If Bellatrix's letter was filled with love and adoration for the Dark Lord, then Rodolphus' letter was practically oozing with it. He sang the Dark Lord's praises, talked endlessly of the generosity and felicity that being in the Dark Lord's favour gave them as a family. Rodolphus was less understanding of Harry's upbringing, explaining that had the glorious Dark Lord not decided, in his most understanding and generous nature, to take a 'shine' to Harry then Rodolphus would have happily disposed of Mirabella, daughter or not. That was followed up with an 'educational' graphed lecture on why the Dark Lord was so wonderful, and what Mirabella could expect to receive by pleasing the Dark Lord.

Harry was happy to ignore all of that though. Harry had the sickening feeling that his life was assured forever. If his latest vision from Voldemort was to be believed then Voldemort couldn't even bear the thought that Harry might get as much as a scratch. No, Harry, or Mirabella, had her life and wellbeing guaranteed. A safe and healthy horcrux vessel kept in a gilded cage.

* * *

 **1** **st** **August**

Harry had been suffering with a headache most of the day. Narcissa had eventually given him a pain relieving potion at lunch time because apparently his face was constantly screwed up in pain and rubbing ones forehead continuously at the dinner table was bad manners.

The potion had worked for 4 hours then the pain came back and it was worse than before. All through dinner Harry tried to keep a straight face and good posture so Narcissa wouldn't bite out something vicious at him about manners. Draco would sneer constantly. Lucius, blessedly, wasn't present.

Harry huffed and bit his tongue. His head was excruciating. If felt like someone had cast an expanding curse on his brain and it was pressing against his skull.

He rubbed his head, trying to sooth his scar. It just felt inflamed and hot.

It was strange how he still had that scar. He hadn't got very far with practising his metamorphmagus transformations, which was the only thing he could do locked in his rooms all day. With the over-abundance of looking glasses in his rooms he couldn't escape himself so he didn't even try, and instead tried to change himself. He had managed to give himself three red freckles for all of two minutes once. Another time he had managed to shorten his hair, but that had not lasted long either. He hadn't been able to do anything about the scar though maybe he would if he kept practising.

Shame he probably wouldn't be able to get rid of the scar altogether, that would be a blessing with the torture the thing gave him.

His head was going to explode! He was sure of it!

Narcissa apparently had enough. She dropped her cutlery to her plate and drew her wand placing it threateningly on the table in front of her. She glared with stone cold eyes at Harry. "Mirabella, if you don't…"

But whatever Narcissa was about to say faded beneath the deafening roaring in Harry's ears.

His scar exploded in the most horrendous pain. He fell off his chair and slammed to the ground. He didn't care about the freezing tiles he fell on to. He didn't care that the chair crashed down on top of him. His scar was ablaze with pain. He twisted and turned, fighting off an invisible attacker but unable to escape the pain. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear. He could just feel.

 _People running everywhere. Screaming. Screaming, shouting and the scurry of the vermin amongst the glorious ones._

 _Yes, yes run. That would make this so much more pleasant._

 _Two aurors felled. Bellatrix and Rodolphus charging forwards, wands flicking and people flying. Blood splattered here and there, a glorious decoration to his most excellent victory._

 _Five more aurors slain. Their bodies littering the grounds. Mudbloods. All of them mudbloods or traitorous scum!_

 _There! Yes…YES!_

" _My Lord, we have the Ministry."_

 _Yesssss. Perfect. The wizarding world is_ _ **mine**_ _!_

 _A wand was levelled in front of him, pointing at the golden fountain. Let the wizarding world's new fountain represent the_ _ **true**_ _meaning behind being a wizard! The repression of all those unworthy. There is only power and those too weak to seek it._

 _The fountain lurched and shuddered, but the figures moved, morphed, and changed to a blackened grey colour. They wailed and cried, bodies contorting under something. Then other figures rose above, wands drawn, stamping down on the figures beneath them._

 _Yes. It was Lord Voldemort's wizarding world now. He ruled!_

Harry choked. His diaphragm clenched, then it flexed and the meagre dinner Harry had eaten erupted up his throat and out of his mouth. He coughed, wretched. Boiling heat detonated in his veins, followed by a terrible coldness. Goosebumps rose all over his skin.

Hands grabbed him and pulled. Harry couldn't resist, couldn't fight it. The hands pulled him sideways then dragged him a little bit. There was the murmur of a spell, then another. Tingles spread over his face, into his mouth, and then the taste of vomit disappeared. He was pulled, shivering as he was, against a body only slightly bigger than his.

"Mirabella! Mirabella!" Hands grasped his face now, shook him. Blearily Harry looked up. Four ice cold eyes glimmered a little in dull light. Four…he was seeing double.

"Mirabella! What…" The voice was feminine and high with alarm.

"Voldemort…" Harry murmured. The body holding him flinched violently. "He has the ministry."

"Ah…it has fallen then." The feminine voice said again. More of Harry's vision became clear, his thoughts gaining some more clarity after the vision, and he recognised Narcissa was in front of him. The other eyes were Draco's, he was knelt on the floor next to them as well, looking ruffled and stressed.

"Mother?" Draco asked.

"The Dark Lord has done it. He has taken the Ministry. His has complete control now."

Draco frowned and looked down. Hesitantly, after several short minutes he looked up and said, "Isn't that a good thing?"

Narcissa sighed but Harry glared at Draco and tried to fight free of Narcissa's grasp.

"How could that _possibly_ be a good thing?!" Harry demanded. Draco frowned, looking lost.

"It is Draco, of course it is dearest." Narcissa sighed and Draco nodded. Harry went to yank himself free from the surprisingly strong grasp but Narcissa held him tight and spoke before he could. "For now, it means we have some freedoms. It also means we shall not suffer quite so much."

"But at what price?!" Harry snarled.

"That we suffer less for longer." Narcissa added softly. Harry's anger deflated a little and he twisted round to look at Narcissa. Draco looked lost again and upset. Narcissa reached out one hand to stroke her son's cheek. "We will brave it as best we can. We are Malfoys. We will bear this and go on."

"Yes Mother."

Harry didn't know what to think. Bear it and go on? Did that mean what he thought it meant?

* * *

 **6** **th** **August.**

Harry wasn't as restricted any more. He had started spending more time with Narcissa and Draco. There wasn't much conversation but at least he wasn't alone. He hadn't coped well be being alone, not like he used to at the Dursley's. He used to prefer to be alone then.

Now Harry got to sit in the lounge with them most of the day and read. Sometimes Narcissa would play on her harp, which she did try to teach Harry then settled on teaching piano instead. Harry couldn't say he enjoyed it, he didn't particularly care for music, but it was a way to pass the time and it was a challenge. The only other thing Harry learned was table manners because Narcissa was upset at being offended by them so many times.

Anything was good if it helped pass the time.

Draco would occasionally challenge Harry to chess. They were on 7 games to Draco and 4 to Harry at the moment. Harry really wasn't a chess player. That was Ron's forte. They sometimes discussed Hogwarts, but having such different views on everything made it difficult to keep the conversations civil. Narcissa got a little wand happy when their conversation became vicious snaps. One flick of the woman's wand would sent ice cold water crashing down on them, or their mouths would become unable to move, they might end up body bound, once or twice there had even been a light stinging hex. All were parental corrections to errantly behaved children.

Harry hated it. Narcissa had no right! But then, because of recent events, Harry had come to realise Narcissa did have a right. Harry just resented it viciously. Harry, as Harry, had done perfectly well without having any parental figures. Now, as Mirabella, there were far too many of them. Add to that the addition of uncles and aunts, a cousin and a Dark Lord…there were too many people in her life trying to control everything.

And she still had no protection. Harry still did not have a wand.

* * *

 **15** **th** **August.**

It wasn't a great start to the morning really.

Having woken up to find his pillow drenched in blood hadn't been surprising.

Discovering blood pooled beneath his hips had sent him off screaming. He'd leapt out of bed, searched himself for cuts, screamed when he found none, then a house elf had popped into the room making Harry scream again. It too had screamed then popped away once more.

Harry spent the next few moments trying to figure out what happened, only to finally remember he was a girl and blood tended to come from girls every month. Harry was never too sure on why but knew it had something to do with babies. It also meant girls had bad moods, or something weird with their moods. Harry was a girl; Harry had bled through the night.

Once he came to that realisation he set about stripping the sheets from the bed, only to be completely grossed out by something running down his leg. He took a trip to the bathroom to bathe. His nightdress, because Narcissa would allow him to wear nothing else to bed, was ruined so Harry threw that into the little bin in the bathroom. Bath full of steaming water Harry stepped in, and had no sooner relaxed into the water when the door slammed open and Bellatrix and Narcissa burst in.

"Found her Cissy! Found her!" Bellatrix declared then danced into the room, her long black robes swishing as she walked and waved her hands around. "What caused all the screaming little Bella?!"

"Ah Mirabella, what caused the amateur dramatics this morning? I do not appreciate…"

"Nobody cares about you Narcissa!" Bellatrix snapped then leaned down to sweep bird-boned fingers across Harry's forehead. "Been decorating with blood again Mini Bella? If you wanted to redecorate you should have told me!"

"No I just…I woke up bleeding. I just woke up like that."

Narcissa nodded, her lips slightly pursed and her face going steel like with non-emotion. The mask was incredible, Harry would have envied her except he still wasn't sure whether he should or could like the woman.

"Of course you did." Bellatrix replied with a sing song voice and abruptly reached a hand into the water and clawed between Harry's legs. Harry shrieked and leapt up, throwing himself out of the bath and banging his head on the wall.

Bellatrix just laughed, dug her fingers in again, then pulled away and inspected her hand. There was water dripping down her arm and into her robes now, but right there on the tips of her fingers was blood. Bellatrix gave a cackle.

"Aha! My itty bitty witch is not so ittsy bitsy now is she?!" Came the embarrassingly hooted words, Bellatrix's grin far too wide for her face. Harry felt his face flame as Bellatrix's eyes scooted all down his body. He couldn't think of himself as a girl and he was uncomfortable seeing a girl's body whenever he bathed. To have somebody stare all over him was horrifying and mortifying.

"Bella, perhaps it would be wise to attend Diagon Alley today, in light of this recent development." Narcissa said, making all eyes turn immediately to her. Harry, grateful for the reprieve from Bellatrix' gaze, quickly snatched a towel from the low hanging rail and draped it over himself.

"Why?"

"I only have a few supplies for such an event, and your daughter has been living in borrowed clothes that do not fit her. It seems a wise time to purchase new clothes for her, that fit, as well as picking up the necessary items to deal with her menses."

"Oh." Bellatrix pouted for a moment then nodded brightly and stood. With an evil grin she started to prance out of the bathroom. "I shall tell Rodolphus! He loathes shopping so he can come to! And out Lord will have to know, of course. Such a fun day we have ahead of us! Such fun! Don't take too long getting ready Mini-Bella! We have lots and lots of Rodolphus' gold to spend!"

"I shall lay out your clothes for you. Wash up. We shall no doubt be leaving within the hour. Bellatrix will want to get started as soon as possible." Were Narcissa's parting words.

* * *

 **15** **th** **August.**

The day had been awful! It was terrible to see Diagon Alley again. The once busy street pretty deserted, and the few who were buying their wares kept shooting fear filled looks at Harry's companions. Bellatrix had accompanied Harry and Narcissa to the shops, dragging a very sour Rodolphus with her. They also had Draco along with them, though Harry had been witness to the underlying threat that should Narcissa and Draco not return then Lucius' life would expire. At least Draco had been allowed to leave the house, the sunlight did him good, and he needed clothes for Hogwarts.

They both needed clothes for Hogwarts. This year that meant a pleated skirt for Harry and tights. The trip to Twilfitt and Tattings had been very expensive and had taken hours. Still, by the end of it Harry had a complete wardrobe; from underwear to fur over robes, work robes for school to expensive one of a kind evening robes for special occasions. The several hundred galleons it set Rodolphus back was incredible and had the man snarling and glowering for ages. He didn't verbally protest, however, mostly because Bellatrix kept daring him too and he apparently wasn't stupid enough to go against her.

After getting new outfits Harry was then dragged to Flourish and Blotts to collect the new school year's books. Harry tried to refuse the Dark Arts books but fell silent when Narcissa's hand became vicelike on his wrist, ending all protests. He didn't have to use them, but he clearly did have to buy them.

They didn't return home until gone six in the evening, after visiting various other robe shops Narcissa saw to get more robes for Harry and a few for Draco. Bellatrix had also picked up a few robes for herself, all black, and ordered Rodolphus to pay. Harry had seen the amount of galleons in Rodolphus' vault though, the man could well afford everything, but it would have dented the gold there quite a bit.

"I see you were successful. There, Lucius, you can rest easy now your dearest wife and child have returned."

"Yes My Lord." Lucius murmured and crossed the hall to greet Narcissa with a kiss to her cheek.

Bellatrix was already bowing and scraping on the floor.

"Thank you for the leave my Lord."

"Tell me Bella, how was Diagon Alley."

"Oh there were plenty of purebloods shopping My Lord, I saw nobody filthy or unworthy."

"Ah good. Order has been restored." Voldemort's serpentine mouth curved into some semblance of a smile then those demonic eyes turned to Harry who refused to meet his eyes.

"And how did you fair, Mirabella?"

"Fine."

A hand whacked the back of Harry's head and sent him tumbling forwards to the floor. She bashed her forehead on the ground and lay stunned for a moment.

"Show respect girl!" Rodolphus snarled.

"CRUCIO!"

A scream sounded behind Harry, followed by the sound of a body crumpling to the floor.

Bellatrix was cackling and clapping her hands. Harry pushed himself up from the ground feeling a little bleary from the impact on his head. He did look behind him though to see Rodolphus screaming and contorting in agony on the ground.

"Did I not say she was to be untouched?! Did I not _specifically_ _demand_ that off everyone!"

The spell ended and Rodolphus shakily pushed himself up to kneel.

"I apologise My Lord. She was just…"

Crucio sounded again and Rodolphus fell once more to the ground. This time he screamed through clenched lips refusing to scream the screams of the tortured. When it ended once more Rodolphus got to his knees and prostrated himself before Voldemort.

"I shall not disobey you again My Lord, never again."

"She is to be unharmed! Do you understand Rodolphus?!"

"Yes, My Lord, of course."

"Not a single scratch on her body. Not a single bruise, not a single agitated nerve. Unharmed, unhurt, and _undamaged_!"

"Yes My Lord!"

Red eyes turned to Harry again and Harry quickly averted his eyes, stood up and held himself very still. A freezing cold hand was placed on his chin and he was turned to look at Voldemort, his scar burning furiously at the touch. Red eyes looked at his forehead then long fingers pressed against where the floor had struck him.

"You are to be undamaged." Voldemort declared once more as if reaffirming that statement to everyone present. They all agreed, sounding their 'Yes My Lord' replies. Then Voldemort leaned in close to whisper into Harry's ear, stale breath making Harry cringe just as much as the man's proximity. "You have been betrayed and hurt by those you trusted and cared for. Never, never has anybody cared for you as I now do, as your blood family do. You will be kept safe. You will be kept away from the fighting, and you will be kept happy."

Harry pulled away, fighting the grip Voldemort had on him to argue. Voldemort gripped harder, two fingers pressing hard on the painful part of Harry's head, the part that took most of the impact. Oh it hurt…so much…but through the pain Voldemort's words rang clear.

"Oh no, shhh shhh shhh. No, don't fight me. No. No, I shall give you everything you ever wanted. All you ever craved, Harry Potter, was a family. And here, here at my side you have a mother, a father, an aunt, an uncle, a cousin…all these people who care for you. Have I not provided you the life which you always wanted? A family all your own. Yes, yes I have done you no harm Harry, not like those you used to care for, you used to trust. I have provided so much more. I give you all these things with no demands of you except that you are kept safe and unharmed here in my care. Am I not a generous Lord?"

Harry did not answer. The words were like chocolate; so tempting and sweet. They were delicious…yes Harry did have a family now. But…but for all the care it wasn't what he truly thought of as a family…

"I give you everything you ever desired." Voldemort said once more then pulled away.

Harry swayed, feeling dizzy now. Cold, small hands gripped him and Harry blinked to see Narcissa there. She held a white handkerchief in her hand and dabbed at his forehead. The white material came away red. Was that Harry's scar or a different wound?

"Narcissa, take our dearest Mirabella back to her rooms. Bellatrix and Rodolphus will acquire a Healer for her to tend to her wound. Only the best for your daughter Bellatrix, she is to be cared for. Then, Bellatrix, I require you and your husband's presence. We have something of vital importance to discuss."

Harry was led upstairs quietly and into his bedroom. He sat on the bed and rested his head in his hands. His head felt heavy and sore, his thoughts fuzzy from pain, from tiredness, and from the words Voldemort spoke to him.

A family. Voldemort gave him a family. That was all Harry had ever wanted. A family all his own. A family to love and care for him.

Narcissa summoned several house elves, scolding them into bringing more material and bowls of water. The woman then dabbed Harry's head with the damp cloths.

A family to care for him. Narcissa cared. She did, it was clear. The regal woman had a mask that hid everything but there was concern and care in her actions. There was no denying that. Her aunt cared. Mirabella's aunt cared.

But…no. Voldemort had given her that…

No he hadn't! Harry shook his head then apologised when it dislodged Narcissa's care. Voldemort hadn't given him the family. His blood had done that, Gringotts had done that. Voldemort had given him nothing. Nothing at all. And even if he had continued to 'allow' Harry to see his family, it wasn't the family Harry had always desired.

* * *

Harry had uncomfortable dreams. It started out with a disagreement between Bellatrix, Rudolphus and Voldemort – the disagreement being handled so peculiarly that it was in itself disturbing. Voldemort was pushing forward his own view, and the two LeStrange's were putting forth theirs in a passive aggressive way so they weren't seen to be defying their Lord, while at the same time disagreeing with him. Harry didn't know what the two views were exactly. It was something to do with him…with Mirabella. He heard that name regularly. There was also mention of a wand. Other than that it was all a blur and muddle of words, like he was listening through water.

He knew the outcome though. Whatever the points and differing views may have been, Voldemort won. Bellatrix and Rudolphus left the room bowing and scraping the floor as always.

When Harry woke up he dealt with the blood that stained and slicked his legs by having another bath. Luckily this bath was not imposed on by family. Once dressed in one of the new dress robes Harry found the flattest pair of shoes he could. He could get on reasonably well wearing a dress, after all most robes were like dresses anyway. The feminine underwear wasn't too much of a problem and he definitely felt better in it than not. Shoes though, shoes were an issue. He loathed heels. He couldn't walk in them, he couldn't balance, he couldn't run! Heels were a liability. A ridiculous liability.

Once that was done he attempted to brush through the untameable mass of curls atop his head. His reflection caught his eye, first to glimpse the wild twists of black hair that twirled and dodged around other curls, then to his face. As Mirabella he looked very different to what he was used to. It made things stranger still to know that that face, the face in the mirror, was his true face – that he really and truly was Mirabella LeStrange. The mirror image of Bellatrix. The face structure was the same; slightly square face but with a pointed chin. She had high cheekbones and neatly curved eyebrows. The hair was all Bellatrix. Only her eyes were different to her biological mother's; they were a very dark indigo, that would look black if it wasn't for the rings of blue that helped give them that sheen in certain lights.

How Harry wished for the green he used to have. You never realised what you missed having until it was gone. Harry missed his eyes. Although, admittedly, he did like not having to rely on glasses for clear vision.

But…now he thought about it…he was a metamorphmagus wasn't he? She? Whatever.

Harry huffed. The 'He' and 'She' nonsense was confusing. It was odd to feel one gender but be another. Very odd.

Green eyes though…he wished he had green eyes again. And surely as a metamorphmagus it wasn't that hard to change one aspect of your appearance? Tonks had frequently changed hers after all.

So Harry concentrated, staring and wishing – not really knowing how to effect a change. It took concentration didn't it? But concentration on what? On the desired effect? Or on something more specific, like the _feel_ in the location you wanted to change? Could it be as simple as just wishing?

He stared and stared and stared – vision going blurry as his eyes dried out from the concentration.

No change.

None.

After half an hour he gave up. Maybe he'd try to sneak to the library, the manor had several libraries so going to one wouldn't be too hard as long as his presence wasn't requested or demanded.

* * *

 **22nd August.**

It had been a week of trying to change his appearance and he had been successful on multiple occasions. There had been no book on metamorphmagus for him to read, but Harry had remembered how stressed and upset Tonks had been over Sirius' death and how that had severely limited her abilities. To that end Harry had thrown himself into occulumency, of which there were several books in the library, and started practising clearing his mind. It was amazing how quickly occulumency came when he wasn't being pressured by the ever dour Snape.

Speaking of Snape he was attending dinner that evening. Loads of people were. Harry was not looking forward to it. Apparently it was a feast to celebrate their success in the ministry and the Daily Prophet and to gloat over how Hermione Jean Granger had made the paper as a 'Most Wanted'. Harry felt sick hearing it – had torn the newspaper up and declared it drivel right in front of his parents, aunt, uncle and Lord. None of them had been impressed with Harry's outburst, but Harry had. He felt he had made his sentiments known, even if he had been sent to his room in 'punishment'. Some punishment. Harry preferred it.

Being alone gave him chance to practise changing forms. He could change his eyes now – from indigo to emerald green. He had the look of them perfectly. He could even change his hair colour and length, though he couldn't do anything about the tremendous curls yet. That took more practises. He could get rid of his breasts though – that had made him laugh to no end when he discovered that. It didn't last long, and Harry did feel uncomfortable without them, which was odd given how long he had spent with a flat chest as Harry. Still, it seemed the Mirabella form was more natural to him – he was a lot less clumsy.

He had tried to make himself a boy - that had worked for all of ten seconds and felt so weird Harry didn't feel inclined to do it again. He hadn't wanted to check if the 'plumbing' had worked once he had changed it either, it felt disgraceful to even think about trying it.

Pleased with the results as he was, Harry didn't dare tell anyone. He suspected Voldemort knew what he was up to. He had felt the invasion in his mind as a light burning sensation on several occasions. The monster didn't appear to care though. Harry idly wondered why, and then supposed it must be because Voldemort could see he was only doing it for entertainment, and for learning purposes and not actually planning anything.

Harry had supposed he belonged here with his family. He didn't like them, but they were his. He got along with Narcissa well enough, actually rather liked the woman. Tolerated Draco just fine too, but disliked everyone else to the point of hatred. He was just looking forward to Hogwarts – only 9 more days to go.

* * *

The meal started off alright, considering the people Harry was with. Wedged in between the blank faced Graham Montegue and the stone faced Draco Malfoy Harry felt uncomfortable. There was no requirement to talk though, in fact Harry had actually been forbidden to talk by Bellatrix – as if that would stop Harry if he really wanted to say something.

All talk at the table had been on the conquest and the brilliance of Lord Voldemort's plans. The victories had been cheered over and the defeat of their enemies lamented over.

"Let us give a toast…" Somebody down the table began and raised his glass. Everybody followed suit, and Harry had to pick up his own glass when someone gave him a kick to his shins. Bellatrix was glaring at him. HE picked it up, noting it was empty and smirking at his mother. Bellatrix just glared back, then switched her gaze to Harry's right.

"Here, allow me Miss LeStrange." The smooth and cultured voice of Graham Montegue obtrusively offered. Harry scowled but could not refuse. Montegue handed back the glass once it was full of what smelt like wine with a rather woody hint to it…and treacle tart. All Harry's favourite things. Hopefully it wouldn't taste terrible.

The speaker continued now everybody held their glasses aloft. "To our Lord. May his enemies cower before him, and may his victories lead to the glory of our world!"

"Our Lord!" People chorused and sipped their wine.

Harry took a tentative sip. Hmm…it didn't taste too bad. So Harry took another sip.

It was quite strong. Harry coughed and put the glass down. It tasted nice but it was very strong. Harry could already feel her mind clouding a little. He licked his lips.

"I'd like to propose another toast, if I may my Lord."

"Of course, Bella." Voldemort acquiesced with what almost sounded like amusement in his voice. Harry felt a little strange. Light headed.

Everyone picked up their glasses.

"To we who are superior! May our families continue to be blessed with our Lord's most gracious favour!"

"To family!"

"To family!"

People drank again.

Harry sipped once more. The world disappeared into white clouds and…

And…

And wasn't Graham Montegue the most handsome man to ever exist?!


	4. Chapter 4

**Reflection Disclaimer**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profits from posting this fanfiction.

 **Summary:** Having lived till 17, it was a shock to go about his day and meet himself. Another him who attacked him. From there the day got stranger; his identity revealed what choice will Harry Potter's reflection take – help or defeat Voldemort?

 **Warnings:** Slash. Character death. Murder, violence, fighting. Drugging. Control. Manipulation.

 **Pairings:** OC/NL, HP/GW

* * *

Reflection Chapter 4

"Come my dear, our parents have requested a meeting." Graham, oh the wonderful handsome Graham, held out his arm to her. She didn't waste a second. She jumped right up and slid his arm into hers.

"Of course Graham." Oh how she loved the feel of his arm in hers. His body next to hers.

They walked side by side, his aroma wafting around her as they walked, into the lounge. Not even the burning in her forehead announcing the presence of Graham's Lord could upset her. Her parents were waiting, as were Graham's parents. Loath though she was to leave her wonderful Graham, when he bid her to greet everyone she happily did it. She wouldn't want him displeased with her. Oh no. Anything for her Graham.

"There, there, come and have a seat my love. Next to me." Graham bade after greetings were done. Mirabella stood from her small curtsey to Graham's Lord and quickly moved to be seated with Graham. He wrapped his arm around her, welcoming her to his side and she beamed. He was such a wonderful man. And such a strong handsome face. He had once had a heavy build, if Harry remembered rightly, with the largest hairy arms she had ever seen. But that was years ago, and if she remembered rightly her darling Graham had been shoved into a vanishing cupboard by those wicked Weasley Twins. Now Graham was a lot thinner, though trying to bulk out. He was eating well and exercising to be stronger, stronger for her. Oh how she adored him! He was wonderful. So conscientious – thinking of her and exercising to get in shape for her. Didn't he know he didn't need to bother? She loved him just as he was.

"I believe the date is set. We are all agreed on the 27th?"

"Yes, father." Graham replied. Mirabella wondered what they were talking about.

"Mini-Bella? What do you think?" Bellatrix asked with her dark eyes keen on Mirabella. Didn't her mother know? She was happy with anything Graham was happy with.

"If Graham is happy, then I am happy."

"Ah, such is the persuasiveness of those in love." Voldemort hissed out with a laugh. Mirabella frowned, confused and made to look over, but Graham's hand stroked her hair and oh she was in heaven. She stroked his thigh in return, the only bit of him she could reach.

"Very well then. I shall take Mirabella shopping. You want to look lovely for Graham on his big day don't you Bella?" Bellatrix asked, that sing song condescending tone sliding over Mirabella. She ignored the tone, her mind focusing on the words. Yes! Yes of course she wanted to look lovely for Graham! Anything for Graham.

"It is settled then."

"Yes, and Professor Snape knows to not expect Mirabella in Hogwarts until after her honeymoon. We have a 30day grace period for them to settle into married life before Mirabella will be expected at Hogwarts. It is such a pleasure to know that Hogwarts favours the Old Ways now."

"Yes, indeed it is."

Mirabella didn't care about Hogwarts. Graham wasn't at Hogwarts.

* * *

Days passed in a blur. Mirabella proudly walked with her marvellous Graham everywhere, Graham being overly attentive to her in a way that made her love him more. He was so perfect in everything he did.

She hated the nights when they were kept apart. And she loathed the whole day and night she was kept far away from him. It made her cry all day long.

Today though she would see him. Today she would dress up nicely and go out to see him. They would be married today and then she would never have to leave her dear Graham's side. Never.

She would look beautiful for Graham in her white lace robes. Oh she couldn't help but imagine how stunning her handsome man would look in his dress robes. That thought kept her going through the long absence. She missed him so much! So much!

* * *

 **20** **th** **September.**

"You didn't want to go to Hogwarts anyway did you my dear?"

"No. I want to stay with Graham."

"Then why do you want to know why you can't go? You should just be happy knowing that your dear Graham knew you did not want to leave him and has made it alright with the school and Ministry so that you don't have to go. Isn't he good to you?"

"Yes, so good to me!"

* * *

 **31** **st** **October**

Mirabella had not long finished cleaning her teeth and getting her robes on when a house elf popped into her and Graham's bedroom with a breakfast tray for each of them. Graham always took his breakfast in bed, and then started his day. Mirabella loved that he waited in bed for her to finish getting ready, then they would eat together and he would go and get his clothes on ready for the day.

No sooner did she catch a whiff of the kippers on Graham's plate did her stomach churn and she made a dash for the bedroom. She threw herself in front of the toilet just in time for her dinner to explode from her stomach, up through her and out into the toilet. She vomited and vomited and ewwww she felt gross.

"Bella?"

"No Graham. Don't come in. I'm ill. I don't want you to get sick." She spluttered then threw up again when Graham closing the bathroom door sent another waft of kipper scent at her.

"I shall send for a healer."

"No, no. No need to worry love. I'll be okay."

"Very well. I have work to do. Don't forget to drink your juice, it's good for you. Good bye Bella."

"Good bye my love, have a good day."

Aww…now her day was going to be a bad one.

When she could get up from the bathroom floor she attempted breakfast and drank her juice. Her wonderful Graham cared so much for her health. He insisted on juice every morning – poured it himself and served it to her. She was blessed with a truly wonderful husband.

* * *

 **13** **th** **November.**

Mirabella was once again in the bathroom. She had barely left it. She only managed to leave it for a scant hour here and there. Graham had given himself more work and had more time away from her. She knew he was avoiding her because she was sick and wanted to give her some space to get better. She knew that he was doing it out of the love in his heart. But she felt lonely. She was still sick and it had been days. Days and days.

She couldn't keep anything down. Not even the juice her dear Graham gave to her. In fact, the juice made her even more ill.

* * *

 **26** **th** **November**

Mirabella darted out of the dining room much to the disgust of all the guests dining there. She ran out of the room and headed straight for a bathroom. She was going to throw up, she was going to be so ill!

She didn't get to the toilet on time. She made it as far as the sink and gripped the porcelain in a death grip as he strained muscles contracted once more in her stomach, forcing liquid and bile out into the basin. The smell made her retch once more. She blindly grasped for the faucet, twisting viciously and sending a fast fountain of water around the basin clearing away the vomit. Once the smell was gone and Mirabella felt a little more stable she scooped up water in her hand and sipped, washing her mouth of the taste.

"Here, take this." Mirabella jumped slightly having not noticed Narcissa follow her out.

"Aunty…I'm so sorry."

"Yes, I am sure you are now. However it is not you who should be apologising. Here, take this. Both of them. The red one first, then the water."

Mirabella did as asked, only because she liked her aunt. The red one tasted strange and it upset her stomach. She dutifully took a sip though, holding her breath as she did so in case it would help. She swallowed and waited for her stomach to rebel. It didn't.

"Now this one. Here." Narcissa grabbed the glass with the red liquid in it and quickly exchanged it for the water clear liquid. Mirabella went to take a sip when suddenly clouds lifted from her mind.

The clouds lifted, the world brightened. All her thoughts suddenly seemed lighter. She could think. She could remember. She could…

Oh no! Oh Merlin! Oh what had…

"Oh Merlin! What happened?!" Harry choked out, wincing at the taste in his mouth and sipping water desperately.

"They…" Narcissa paused looking worried. "You have to understand it was our Lord's idea to keep you here, but Bella and Rodolphus found the way. Who were we to go against our Lord? Who was I to go against your parents?"

"Don't side step it. What happened?!" Harry asked, the rage now burning inside him being amplified by the already burning muscles. He glared at Narcissa.

"The only way to keep you from Hogwarts legally was for you to get pregnant. The only way for that to happen was if you were married. Thus…" Narcissa waved her hands trying to hint at the truth without saying it. Clearly she was uncomfortable with the idea.

Harry could understand why. Now her thoughts were clear…now his thoughts were clear, he could remember how upset and distressed Narcissa had been the last few months. Every time Mirabella had been with Graham Montegue…every time Mirabella had…Harry felt ill. All those things…he… She had behaved like a love sick fool because of a love potion. She had gotten married; she had been intimate with _Montegue_ several times and now…

"You drugged me."

" _They_ drugged you." Came the immediate correction. Harry waved his hand as if he could bat away the words physically.

"Which potion was it?" It had to have been the most powerful one…Amortentia. That had to be it. Thinking back Mirabella's actions were exactly the same as Ron's actions for Romilda had been. She had been obsessed with Montegue. Obsessed and completely smitten.

"A-"

"Never mind." Harry snarled. "I know which one." Amortentia…the most powerful love potion. Brewed and given by the person who was to become the object of another's devotion.

"They did it so you wouldn't go to Hogwarts. Our Lord…Our Lord knows of your thoughts and feelings, he knew if you were allowed to go to school you would have escaped him or been put in danger. He wants you safe, Mirabella. Safe and unharmed."

"Yes. Safe and unharmed in a place where I have been drugged and raped! Oh don't give me that look _Aunty_ , it was rape. I would never have consented to anything if it hadn't of been for the Amortentia!"

"Yes but…"

"No buts! They did this to me! They all did this to me! Merlin!" Harry gasped, spinning around and storming from the room. Narcissa grabbed her by the wrist and tried to stop her. Harry just wrenched his wrist free and spun around to glare viciously at her. "No. You don't get to touch me. You don't get to act like we are family. We are not. Family would not allow this to happen to anyone they cared about. No. You might have just given me the antidote, you might have told me what happened and I might understand that you were not comfortable with the idea, but you are just as guilty! Where is your caring _aunty_? Or is caring only restricted to people with an undamaged soul?!"

Narcissa flinched, actually flinched, every time Harry snarled words at her. She was pale, she was shaking, and she was crying when Harry finished saying what he had to say. She was almost inarticulate but she managed to strain out a few words.

"Don't…Don't go back to dinner. Don't go! Don't drink anything they give you. I will…I will make your excuses. Just don't go in there."

"Why not?! They won't harm me." Harry sneered. "I'm too important to Voldemort for them to hurt. What else could they possible do to me that they haven't already done?!"

"N-n-not you…they could harm the…" Narcissa paused looking worried.

"The what?! Hurry up! I don't want to be here anymore."

"The baby. They could harm the baby!"

And that just brought Harry's world crumbling down around his ears.

His anger ratcheted up to explosive rage. Magic rattled the walls and smashed ornaments. He could see stars in front of his eyes and there was a roaring in his ears.

"What did you say?"

"You are pregnant. You have been for a while. Don't go back to them Mirabella, they could hurt the baby."

* * *

Harry didn't go back to the dining room. He went upstairs and hid. He found the rooms in the manor that used to be Mirabella's before she became wife to Graham Montegue. She still had rooms at the manor, two sets now though. Her private ones were unused since she married, but now they would be used. Now she would use them as a refuge.

Baby. She was pregnant. Mirabella was pregnant. Harry was pregnant.

Harry had never considered children, other than the vague thought that he would one day like them. Mirabella, for that name came with a completely different time in Harry's life, had not considered children at all except once when the topic of an heir was brought up with regards to her and Graham.

And wasn't it a blow that Harry couldn't stop thinking of Montegue as Graham. Oh he hated the man, hated him with a vicious passion. But the memories of the man were good ones. Even with the unbiased eye the antidote to amortentia gave him, all Harry saw when he considered the months he had lived with Graham was that the man was alright. His morals were skewed not just because of what he was willing to do to the very drugged Mirabella. He was a death eater too and there had been a few occasions where Graham had come back to Mirabella excited and joyous over his victory against muggles, so Harry knew he truly believed killing muggles was the answer. Graham was a vicious death eater, a cold blooded killer and had an enormous propensity to hate.

He had been good to Mirabella though, Harry supposed. He didn't abuse her, didn't use her. He was cold and distant, except when he wanted to get off. Harry felt sick thinking back on that. Oh how willing Mirabella had been…it made him sick. Mirabella might have been willing but she didn't have full mental capacity. It was drug rape; it was abuse of one of the most serious types. Harry might remember feeling positive about the experiences but it made him sick, it had not been his choice and that was the point. He wasn't in his right mind. Graham was happy to take advantage of that many, many times over.

Harry hated that. Hated it.

And all of that had been her parents fault. All of it. Bellatrix's actions, Rodolphus' actions…all of it had been their idea. They thought of it to keep her from Hogwarts on the command of their Lord. He wanted her here, they found the way for it to be so. There had to have been another way. Even with the new law making it obligatory for purebloods to attend Hogwarts. And besides, since when had any of them worried about adhering to the laws?!

Nobody had protected her. Nobody had cared. They had just followed orders. And Graham Montegue was just as bad, if not worse, than her parents.

Harry hated all of them.

* * *

Mirabella had been simmering with rage all night. She hadn't slept, she hadn't relaxed, and she hadn't returned to the shared bedroom with her 'husband'. No, she hadn't slept. She had planned and with every vicious plan she came up with a hundred more came to mind. She was furious, she was _livid_. And since she was surrounded by immoral people she had chosen an immoral form of justice. She would get revenge. She was allowed it. The part of Harry that remained didn't even object. Every part of Mirabella's mind was enthused with the thirst to have blood, to have revenge.

Her plan was set. Her mind was made up. She had stopped thinking of herself as Harry. Holding onto the past was dangerous. She had come to the decision that because she was still clinging onto her life as Harry, still thinking of herself as Harry, she had seemed like a liability. A liability that needed to be controlled. So now she was Mirabella. A pregnant Mirabella hell bent on revenge. Didn't people give warnings about a woman scorned? 'Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned. Mirabella was definitely a woman scorned.

She got dressed, sent the house elf away when it brought her food, then wandered down to the kitchens herself. There, under the watchful but tear filled eyes of the house elves Mirabella set up her own meal.

"Misteress! Misteress we is sorry we is not making breakfast to yous liking!" One elf babbled and Mirabella sighed.

"It is not that. Your food is excellent. I just do not fancy being drugged again."

"We is not drugging food Misteress!"

"We is good house elfs!"

"Yes, yes, that's all well and good but I want my food untampered with."

"We can do it Misteress, we swears!"

Mirabella made her own food then ate it then and there in the kitchen. She and the elves came up with a satisfactory plan come the end of her meal. The elves would make her something special from a special menu just for her and always serve her with only that special food. To prove it wasn't tampered with a house elf would always taste test her food for her. She didn't want to abuse them or risk their lives, but the house elves offered. More specifically a house elf called Tinkle offered. Tinke was a relative of Dobby, and while all the house elves said Dobby was not right in the head they did think that Dobby was right in going against masters. Master is a Bad Man, was frequently whispered before the house elves would beat themselves for it.

Mirabella had agreed that the masters in the house were all 'Very Bad Men' and thanked the house elves for their help. They had all fallen over themselves giddy with her comments and praise. She felt she had won them over – an unexpected bonus!

Once breakfasted she wandered the house, giving a polite but very insincere nod and smile to everyone she passed. She had a plan, she just needed to find her _mother_ first.

She ended up in the family room, where even from outside the room she could hear her mother and father, along with Aunty Narcissa and Uncle Lucius. She entered through the doors and briskly walked across the room.

"Ah Bella!" Bellatrix cried out. "We were most upset when you left so abruptly last night."

Harry took a deep breath and pulled on every molecule of acting strength. "Oh I am very sorry about that. I was very unwell. I am feeling a little better today so hopefully I won't be so rude again."

"Hopefully not!" Rodolphus nodded. "How is young Graham this morning?"

Oh good Merlin, they had to ask.

"I do not know." Mirabella tried to look really sad. "I did not want to make him ill in case I have a virus, so I slept in a different room last night. I think perhaps I should see a healer, I do not want to make my love ill."

Narcissa was giving her a very odd look.

"Such a considerate wife you are Bella!" Bellatrix cooed and crossed the room to Mirabella to give her a hug. Mirabella allowed it, hugging back tightly as though treasuring the hug, when in reality she used the hug to hide her snarl of anger.

"Mother, speaking of Graham, I wondered if you could help me."

"Anything Mini-bella! Anything!" And blissfully Bellatrix released her.

"Well, Graham has worried I am getting too many looks from people, from men who might be after me. I thought now that I had my wand back," for she had been allowed a new wand only a month previously due to good behaviour, "I thought it would reassure him to know that I could punish people not being respectful or appropriate. I am his wife after all, I want no other, and they shouldn't be so forward to a married woman. It isn't right."

"Oh! Oh punish them! Yes! I know exactly the right spell to use! Come my Mini-Bella! I will teach you."

And teach Bellatrix did. By that afternoon Mirabella could cast the ball-busting hex and two other nasty hexes, one which would shrivel up a man's penis, and the other would remove all genitals very painfully. Mirabella couldn't express her thanks enough to her mother and left the cackling Bellatrix to it.

* * *

When Graham came home that evening he got the surprise of his life. He ran from the room howling in agony. He ran straight downstairs with Mirabella following him, his screams calling loads of attention to him.

As luck would have it Voldemort was in the manor with her family and many other Death Eaters. Not the best stage for it but still Mirabella would take the only stage she could get.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" Voldemort roared and hissed.

"My-my-my-my l-l-lord! She-she-she…" Graham garbled unintelligibly, clutching his groin and falling to the floor sobbing in agony. Voldemorts red eyes flicked up to her and Mirabella allowed herself to smirk.

"What can I say, my mother taught me well."

"Your mother…you mean I…oh. OH! Ahahahahaha!" Bellatrix broke down in hysterics, even going so far as to cling to Rodolphus and stamp her feet.

"What has happened?" Voldemort hissed again and moved up the stairs to meet Mirabella in the middle of the stair case. He moved like a predator but Mirabella refused to be prey. She held her chin up and stared back evenly. He could look into her mind, she didn't care.

"I hexed his dick and balls off. Mother taught me this afternoon. I have to say I feel very…" She paused to find the right words. "Proud of myself. Isn't it funny how purebloods can whine and snivel just as much as muggles can?"

"And why would you hex your husband?"

"Hm, I need a reason?" Mirabella queried and Voldemort's eyes became sharp. A burning started in her brain and she decided to do away with pretence. "I hexed him because it seemed like just deserts for a man who drugged and raped me. And since he and most others here only understand violence, I thought it was very fitting."

"Hmmm, yessss." Voldemort hissed, ruby eyes flashing. "And how did you find out about the Amortentia…Ah! I see. Narcissa." Voldemort spun on his heel and fast as lightning cast the cruciatus curse. Narcissa went down like a lead weight, screaming and writhing in pain.

Mirabella didn't think, she just acted. She threw herself at Voldemort, grabbed his wrist and pulled. The monster had no real strength in his bone width arms to resist her desperate, adrenaline filled power and his arm moved, concentration broke and the spell ended. He turned raging eyes on Mirabella. Her head burned viciously, scar bubbling with pressure.

"She had to! She _had_ to! I was so ill! Amortentia is dangerous during pregnancy! You…you! You of all people should know _that_!" She burst, then winced as she realised what she alluded to. Merope had drugged Lord Thomas Riddle for several months, long enough to marry and beget a pregnancy. Voldemort had been the result.

She lowered her voice to a whisper to stop people overhearing, but she wouldn't stop speaking yet. Not yet. She may greatly dislike Narcissa – the wretched weak willed woman incapable of standing up for what she believed in against her own family – but she wouldn't see her hurt. "It…It doesn't lead to any good. Bitterness against parents, hatred I suppose. Perhaps they would have turned out like you and sought their own revenge. _She_ told me the truth. _She_ protected me when no-one else would. You all proved me unsafe and harmed me so much I don't know how I'll live with the memories of what you inflicted upon me."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. She didn't think him capable of compassion, or of personal reflection. But anger drove her on and she muttered her last words on the subject. The nail in the coffin, so to speak. She did not dim her voice now.

"I thought Dumbledore's manipulations were bad. I was hidden, my identity and my gender hidden from me, and brought up in a neglectful household by horrible people who did not care for my well-being. But now, home with family, I have been more hurt, more _damaged_ , than I ever was under his care."

Voldemort whipped around to her and snagged her chin in a vice like grip. He glared into her eyes, seeking and finding whatever it was he sought. He hissed and held her very still.

"I see what you have decided. Revenge is your course but you shall not have it. Your parents did what was best to keep you away from Hogwarts, a place you would have been in danger. If Amortentia is dangerous, as you claim, Hogwarts would be more so. Especially now." His hand moved to her stomach and pressed, clawing at her lower belly. Mirabella groaned and tried to wrench away but he held her still with more strength than his body belied he had. "Safe and unharmed here at the manor. You will be under constant supervision; you are to never leave your relatives sides. And, as added incentive to be good and obey, should your adherence to my instructions fail, it shall be Narcissa who pays the price."

"What do I care?!" Mirabella hissed angrily.

Voldemort chuckled at her. "Oh I believe you do care; more for others than for yourself. I would harm the child." He pressed her belly again. "But it would do no good to harm my heir would it."

"Your heir?! It is not yours!" Mirabella screamed completely and utterly horrified. Voldemort gave a low chuckle again.

"Oh yes, not mine by creation but in every other way. You have me inside your head Mirabella and I have you running through my veins. It shall be my heir, heir to my kingdom. Heir to my Wizarding World." Voldemort grabbed her by the ear and dragged her down the stairs. "I leave her to your care. Take better care of her Bellatrix. I expect to never see such a spectacle as I did today. Should I be witness to such a fit of hormonal rage again it shall be on your heads the punishment falls – yours in particular Narcissa."

Narcissa paled further from where she leaned against her husband. Lucius looked especially pale and had a glisten in his eye. He was looking skyward, his scraggy and unkempt hair shielding his eyes enough that nobody far away would suspect there were tears there.

"Come on then Mini-Bella." Bellatrix cooed but Mirabella yanked away from her and went to stand next to Narcissa, as much of an apology as she could manage.

"Mira. I am not a mini-Bella. Don't forget mother. You named me _Mirror-Bella._ I am your mirror. A mirror of you. Your opposite. Not your reflection."

"And yet with a spell that powerful," Bellatrix waved to the still writhing Graham, "you are more like me than you wish _Mira_."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profits from posting this fanfiction.

 **Summary:** Having lived till 17, it was a shock to go about his day and meet himself. Another him who attacked him. From there the day got stranger; his identity revealed what choice will Harry Potter's reflection take – help or defeat Voldemort?

 **Warnings:** Slash. Character death. Murder, violence, fighting. Drugging. Control. Manipulation.

 **Pairings:** OC/NL, HP/GW

Reflection Chapter 5

* * *

 **21** **st** **January**

December and Christmas were dull and dreary affairs really, except for a few bits of activity. Mirabella had constantly been by one of her family's sides.

On the 19th of December she had been removed from Malfoy Manor to stay at the Parkinson Residence. There she had either been locked in her room or kept permanently attached to her Father's side. Rodolphus didn't have nearly as many outings as Bellatrix had, but the few times Mira was left alone she was locked and warded in her rooms. Thankfully that kept her from seeing any unpleasantness. She could quite forget what was happening in the world around her at those times. She could forget that out there somewhere was Harry Potter, Hermione and Ron fighting against Voldemort's forces. She could forget all her former friends who were no doubt at Hogwarts straining against the curriculum.

The night of the 24th of December had Mira waking in the night screaming in pain as her vision granted her a view of herself lunging forwards to bite Harry and Hermione. She had missed, oh how she was glad she had missed. Nagini. She was Nagini in those moments and she saw what Nagini faced. But Harry and Hermione had escaped. Barely. But at least they had escaped.

That brought her mind back to things. She found a newspaper and read it cover to cover searching for information. She had ignored all news, not wanting to think of anything. Selfish, she thought despairingly now as she desperately searched for information. It was selfish of her to wallow, to rot in self-pity at the blow she had received. So she wasn't Harry Potter. So she had parents who were alive. So her friends didn't know who she was! But that didn't stop her from caring about them! It didn't stop her from wishing them well! And it didn't mean she could wallow and fester in ignorance any longer.

She was 21 weeks pregnant. Her morning sickness was over. She had no adverse effects of pregnancy except constant tiredness due to loss of nutrients to the baby and because whenever she went to bed at night her baby would be awake and dancing around. She had enjoyed the quickening a lot, it was very entertaining, but she didn't get a moments peace from it now and she was bored. She was looking pregnant but the healer said she was healthy, that baby was healthy and her bump was a good size. She was fine! Despite the conception there was nothing wrong with her pregnancy and nothing to make her upset.

So she should be able to concentrate on other people and stop being so self-centred!

The 28th of December had been a horrible day. First the Death Eaters failed in something – her vision of their punishment was very painful! Then again that evening she was plunged into another vision. That time she got only pain and rage from Voldemort.

Something hadn't worked out for him.

Well good!

The next day she was returned to Malfoy Manor but forbidden from walking without company. Not so unusual.

So now she was bored again under Narcissa's watch. She was adamantly ignoring the presence of Graham, Laurence Montegue and Eponine Montegue. She had been handed a piece of parchment and several books on baby names and family histories of each family to choose an appropriate name for the baby. The Montegue's all wanted English names or names of English or Latin origins. The LeStrange family liked Latin names too. The Black family favoured the stars.

Mira wasn't in the mood to be co-operative and kept suggesting anything she saw. She wasn't serious suggesting some things but the looks on everyone's faces were good. Laurence Montegue had horror on his face. Eponine looked scandalised, particularly by the rather 'muggle' names. Graham looked sour about everything. He had tried to be angry, had actually had an enraged outburst where he demanded Mira remove his curse, and that he be the one to choose the names. Narcissa had been blank faced through it all.

"Okay, discussion over!" Eponine decided a while later.

"I agree." Mira said and smartly snapped her book shut. "Harry for a boy and Hermione for a girl. Perfect name choices. Harry Ronald would work, and Hermione Lily for a girl. So happy we cleared that up!"

"NO!"

"Our child will not be named after blood traitors and mudbloods!"

"It is not 'our' anything. You did your part, and since the baby is in my body it is mine. Your job is done."

"I am your husband."

"Not willingly. As far as I am concerned our vows are broken."

"Our vows will not end until we die." Graham threatened.

"Or you die." Mira threw out there. It was harsh perhaps but she hated Graham. _Hated_ him. She might not wish him dead, she wouldn't wish that on anyone except Voldemort, but she did still hate him. "Because let's face it, out of the two of us it is more likely to be me who lives through this war."

"What war?! The war is over, we won!" Graham snarled.

"Aunty, I'd like to go to my room now if you don't mind. I am tired." She said ignoring the onset of another of Graham's rages. She hated him, and hate was exhausting. She stroked her belly. The baby flipped or wiggled or something. Wasn't that the most amazing feeling in the world? She hated its father but she couldn't hate the baby. One of the few beings in her life she couldn't hate at the moment.

Narcissa stood up and walked over to her, holding her hand as they walked out of the room. She had grown to hate Narcissa less too. The poor woman was frightened for her life after all. Mira could relate. Narcissa's life was threatened; the life of her husband and the life of her only son were threatened too. The stress had taken its toll on the woman and being around her so often, being cared for so often by Narcissa, Mira's emotions had thawed.

"Must you rile them so Mira?"

"Yes. They annoy me. And I hate them."

"Yes, but wouldn't it be so much simpler if you just got along? Without the pointless bickering?"

"Oh I'm sure the world would be a much better place without disagreements Aunty, but it will never happen. I hate them. That won't change."

"But to bicker so? It drains your energy and that is not good for the foetus."

"I rest all day every day in one way or another. A little excitement in bickering is hardly going to do me harm."

"Rest? What rest?! I have never seen you rest except when you are forced to sit. When I am with you I swear we walk miles! I have needed to purchase several more pairs of shoes for both of us so they can protect our feet from the mileage you do."

"I like walking. It makes me feel less trapped when I walk."

* * *

 **27** **th** **March.**

Rodolphus was guarding her today and Mira was feeling restless in his presence. Since sundown she had not been allowed outside. She had been kept in one room with the instruction to practise her music or read, neither of which she was inclined to do. She had ended up pacing the room or watching out of the window.

By nine o'clock there was a strange buzz to the Manor. Rodolphus had received a message by house elf that had him buzzing with eager anticipation. That set off Mira's nerves and her stomach fluttered anxiously. Her baby became restless because of it and started beating on her bladder. She didn't dare ask her Father to take her to the bathroom again though. He had snapped and snarled the last time.

By ten o'clock Mira could hold no more and had to ask Rodolphus. Angrily he had led her from the room to the toilet then escorted her up to her room. Partway up the stairs they were intercepted by a pale and shaking Draco, a ghost white Narcissa, a sickly yellow Lucius and a seething Bellatrix.

"Husband! Come! I have need of you. Our Lord will be most upset. _Most upset_." She spat the last words at the Malfoys, going so far as to smack Draco. Draco winced and cowered.

Draco was home for Easter, but as usual coming home was not pleasant for him. Mira had been able to play a few games of chess with Draco over Christmas and Easter and had learned the goings on at Hogwarts. She knew that while Draco hated it at home being at Hogwarts was no better. Apparently the Carrows were vicious. She hadn't been able to ply any news on her old friends out of him though.

"What happened?!" Mira asked. Bellatrix pulled a face but cooed anyway and patted Mira's head.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head over it. Just go and brew my grandbaby! Come Rodolphus!" Her mother flounced off towing Rodolphus behind her leaving Mira on the stairs. She turned to the Malfoys when her parents were out of sight.

"What happened?"

"The Dark Lord is going to be very upset with us. Very upset."

"Why?!"

"Harry Potter was here…and we didn't realise."

"Harry Potter is here?! Really?! Where…wait…you said was." Mira asked, dreading and dying for an answer.

"I didn't realise it was him, couldn't recognise him he was so disfigured. But Granger was there and Aunt Bella tortured her but then…then they escaped. A house elf helped them escape."

"Bella's furious. But our Lord will be more displeased. Oh Merlin…we will be lucky to escape with our lives this time." Narcissa wrapped her arms around Draco and Lucius placed a hand on both of their shoulders. Mira didn't know what to say. She was ecstatic Harry Potter, Ron and Hermione had escaped…but devastated that it might mean the lives of Narcissa and Draco. Lucius…well…she didn't know what to think of him.

They didn't retire to bed, they were too shaken up to sleep and all knew what would happen when Voldemort found out. They, instead, went to one of the upstairs family rooms and sat together. Draco and Mira tried to play chess but it was lacklustre and neither of them paid any attention. Narcissa sat silently, looking like she was indeed facing a death sentence. Lucius had his head in his hands and refused to look up even once.

Mira felt a burn on her forehead shortly after 10.30pm. That burn escalated to full blown agony in her head and she toppled off her chair and onto the floor as Voldemort's rage took hold. It didn't help that he was coming closer. She knew he was coming closer.

Lucius hissed, Draco yelled, and both grabbed their forearms. They were being summoned.

Narcissa summoned a house elf to take Mira to her room, and then the three of them left. Mira didn't know when…if…she would ever see them again.

* * *

 **30** **th** **March**

It turned out she would see them three days later. All were worse for wear but alive. Draco was badly hurt and had a permanent shake to his body from the cruciatus curse. Narcissa wasn't much better. Lucius was unharmed but looked deathly ill. His family had been punished; his punishment was to watch and witness it. It was the ultimate torture for a family man.

Draco confessed the whole thing to her from start to finish – how the snatchers had found wizards using the taboo on the Dark Lord's name, had arrested them, brought them all back, all three of them, and tortured them. Bellatrix got particularly happy torturing Hermione, carving mudblood into her arm. Then they had escaped with Luna Lovegood and Mr Ollivander in tow, two people who had been in the dungeons of the Manor for weeks and weeks! Mira had known Voldemort had hunted down a wand, she had seen that in many visions, and she knew he had visited Ollivander but hadn't realised Ollivander was at the Manor. If she had known she would have…well, that's probably why she didn't know. Anyway, the point was that house elves had helped the five people to escape, to who knows where.

Voldemort's plans were thwarted by teenagers and a house elf. No wonder he was enraged.

It gave Mira an idea though. She knew it would endanger Narcissa but that would only happen if it was on Narcissa's watch wouldn't it? She would escape. She would ask the house elves, they all liked her because she was so polite and caring with them. She would ask them to help her. She would hide somewhere and either hide from the world until the war was over or help…depending on whether her baby was born before there was an all-out war.

Mira could guess what Harry Potter was doing. She knew what she would be doing. He was hunting horcruxs. He was hunting them and destroying them. Mira didn't know how many he had destroyed but she was willing to bet it was at least one, possibly two. She would have to die at some point to get rid of the horcrux in her. She just hoped it would be possible to give birth first. With the connection to Voldemort she would know when she was the last one left, or one of the last ones left.

Mind made up Mira planned. She began to get the house elves on board and planned an escape. Then she managed to call Kreacher to her, odd since his loyalty should have been to Harry Potter. Still, he came. Grimmauld Place was uninhabited, she could hide there. Nobody would know. She couldn't be found. The Fidelus charm still held. Kreacher was positively barmy at the thought of her joining him at Grimmauld. He had a certain dislike for Bellatrix too now, strangely. Oh Mira didn't mind, but Kreacher's ideas had changed somehow and now he disliked Bellatrix and the Dark Lord.

Plan's made her first step was to invoke an old providence – going into confinement. She perhaps went a little earlier than allowed in normal society; however she claimed due to her walking habits and the stress of her connection to Voldemort she felt she should go into confinement early.

Confinement meant she could only have a few visitors a week, and out of that there could only be family who visited. In confinement she organised the rest of her plans.

She practised changing her appearance more determinedly than she had before. Hair was no problem for her now; she could not only change the colour and length, she could alter the curls to be straight or anything else she felt like. She could change her eyes and the structure of her face. She could change most of her body too. She couldn't change her stomach with the baby in there, and changing her breasts was even more uncomfortable but she could do it for hours on end now and with minimal concentration. She could make herself taller, and broader, or even shorter if she needed to. She couldn't do feet, they were tricky, but that was alright – who really looked at feet anyway?

A week into confinement Mira left. She made sure to leave right after Rodolphus had visited. When she got the vision of an enraged Voldemort two days later it was Rodolphus who suffered his wrath. Mira didn't feel guilty. He might have been her father but she had no affection for him or him for her. That was her revenge for his part in her rape. She felt better for it too. Freer.

"Mistress! I is bringing yous dinner."

"Thank you Kreacher." Mira moved to the kitchen table slowly and sat down. Kreacher immediately served her sausage hot pot – her favourite meal recently. The tomato sauce, the herbs, the sausages...amazing! It was even better because Kreacher served it with freshly cooked warm bread.

"I is bringing a radio? You be listening to it?"

Huh? Radio?

"Umm…never listened to a radio before. Is there a good wizarding show on?"

Kreacher looked shocked. Oops? What had she done?

"Mistress is not knowing the Potterwatch show?"

"Potterwatch?"

"'Tis a radio show for wizards against the Dark Lord! Tells good news and bad news!"

"Turn it on then!" Mira cried eagerly. Kreacher nodded and turned the radio on. Static came out of it and Mira held a wince.

"There's being a password Mistress. Yous tap with wand and say password."

"And what's the password?"

"Changes every day. Guess! Mistress be thinking lots and guessing!" Kreacher bade her and Mira drew her wand. She didn't like her wand but it did serve its purpose she supposed. She could try to buy a different one now, though she didn't know where she would get one from. Ollivander might have escaped but she severely doubted he would be back in business anytime soon.

She tapped the radio and muttered the word 'Harry'. Then tried the name of her friends. Then she went through the names of people in the Order of the Phoenix. She did locations; Hogwarts, Godric's Hollow, Burrow, Ministry. She also did animals. It turned out the password was Thestral.

" _-be silent for the lists of the dead…"_ The announcer stated then reeled off into a list of names. " _Dead Death Eaters include snatcher Dawkins, Merrybone who isn't so merry now, and Senior Montegue._ "

Oh. Wait…as in Laurence Montegue? That was the only senior Montegue right?

" _And on to a lighter hearted topic, here is Romulus with 'Pals of Potter' for your entertainment, only here on Potterwatch."_

" _Thank you River. A big commendation goes to the Pals of Potter at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry for their incredible heroism and courage…"_

Mira listened long to the broadcast till the end, noting down the new password ready for the next day. It was amazing to hear Remus' voice again. And did she detect Lee Jordan as River? Surely it had to be right? Who else had a voice like that?!

* * *

 **13** **th** **April – Monday.**

Mira's back hurt.

It hurt a lot.

She had been in pain a long time too, it had even woken her up. She had to get up and walk to deal with the pain. On and on it went.

It was like a sharp pain all down the base of her back and into her leg. So sore! Walking hurt, sitting hurt, standing hurt, lying down hurt! Everything hurt.

Then it stopped. The baby wiggled. Oh…oh it must have been lying on a nerve. Cheeky baby.

She rubbed her belly. Thank goodness that was over.

Voldemort was raging. The pain was horrible! So much pain and so many curses! He threw them out left right and centre! What had happened? Had somebody failed him in something?

Why did Mira have to feel every curse?!

* * *

 **17** **th** **April**

Mira had been especially active all day. She had enjoyed a flurry of activity trying to sort things out. Her mind had been completely obsessed with the idea that she had no baby clothes at all and no things for the baby either. She had galleons of course but what good would that do, she couldn't spend it.

She had ended up ordering Kreacher to go and purchase baby clothes for her. Kreacher went in a complete flap and returned completely flustered but with some bags of baby clothes and blankets. Mira spent an hour going over what he had bought, praising the elf to get him to stop flapping and fretting. His purchases were good and all the colours were neutral which was even better because Mira had no idea what gender the baby would be. Healers didn't have a test that would show them gender. The only pregnancy tests they had were ones to tell you the general health of the baby and whether it needed more nutrients or not. Mira had commented that muggles had more tests they could do, which at the time had not been a helpful comment because it had sent Bellatrix into a fit.

There were blankets in the bags too, and soft squares of cloth which Mira supposed were there for when the baby burped. Didn't they sometimes bring up milk when they burped? Mira wasn't too sure; she hadn't paid much attention to the books she read…she hadn't even bothered to really read them. Perhaps she should start reading.

She folded the clothes up and put them away in drawers in the Master Suit. Kreacher had floated down a cot from the attic and spent a few hours cleaning and preparing it. The dark wood ended up draped in white blankets. There were little black pillows in the cot which Mira thought made it look dull and dreary until Kreacher also found some red pillows. Then it looked very pretty. The black, white and red colours mixing and contrasting wonderfully. Didn't babies have a poor perception of colour when they were first born? That was a thing wasn't it?

By bed time Mira was completely wiped of energy. When she went to bed though her dreams were fitful. Her scar burned and her head felt very sore. She knew Voldemort was angry but she wasn't sure what that was about.

Giving up on sleep she got up and reorganised the baby clothes. She re-examined all of them, then refolded and repacked them. She dug around her things for the baby book she had and began to read, falling asleep again barely two pages in.

 _Snarling. Pleading and hissing mockery. Mira was coiled ready to strike, curling her length amongst itself so she could lunge. Kill! Kill master's worm!_

" _You have failed me for the last time! CRUCIO!"_

Mira screamed and bolted upright. Pain blossomed all over her body. Her head bled. Her body twitched and arched, back screaming under the pressure from the abrupt movement.

So much pain! She hated Voldemort! Hated him! She was so pleased somebody pissed him off and failed him. But to feel it! To feel it again!

She needed a drink, hoped that would settle her enough to sleep again. Fingers crossed she wouldn't have any more dreams of visions. It was late and very dark outside. The clock on top of the dresser said it was only about ten o'clock though, having gone to bed at 9 because she was so tired Mira was a little surprised to have not slept that long. Still, the Dark did do a lot of work after dark. It was their hunting period. Typically cliché but true.

Body shaking Mira unsteadily began to climb out of bed, only for pain to explode inside her at the smallest movement. She yelled then gritted her teeth. Inch by careful inch she wiggled to the edge of the bed, intent on getting that drink so she could settle again and sooth her throat. She placed her feet on the floor, pushing herself up with her arms and giving a stifled moan as more pain exploded down her back. She must have arched her back or something with the cruciatus curse. It made its victims twist unnaturally, it made sense she would have wrenched it.

She stood up and gave a horrified gasp as warm water rushed down her legs. She clenched her muscles desperate to stop it, and like a child pressed her hands between her legs in a hope to stem the flow. She wet herself! She _wet_ herself! She hadn't done that since she was a child! She hadn't even needed the toilet.

"Oh no…Kreacher! Kreacher!" She yelled her face aflame with the most spectacular heat. She felt so embarrassed she couldn't even look at the house elf when he popped into her room. "I need…I need clean underwear and a night dress. I'm really sorry but I've…-ooooooh!"

Whatever she had been about to say was cut off in a loud groan. She grit her teeth and bent forwards as spasms of pain slashed across her lower back and round into her stomach. More water rushed from her, she felt tears well in utter humiliation. Lights went on and Mira turned her head to the side so Kreacher wouldn't see her, and she couldn't see him.

But bent over as she was she caught a glimpse of her nightdress beneath her bump. It was wet, obviously, and slightly see through with the water. There were yellow bits too but there were also red specks in it too.

Red specks. Blood.

The pain in her stomach and back left so Mira grabbed at her dress, wrenching up the material. It didn't smell like wee…and since she needed the toilet now it couldn't be urine could it?! What if…

Labour. She was in labour. The pain from her back had been in her stomach. She was in labour.

"KREACHER!"

"Yes Mistress?"

"I need to go..." Mira started then winced as pain shot through her again. Okay. Okay. Okay! This was labour. It was labour. She was going into labour. How long had she been pregnant? Since August…how many months? Um…

"OOOWWW! Merlin that hurts! Ow ow ow ow ow." She muttered, talking because she couldn't stay quiet. Not now. Not with the pain and the panic.

When the pain passed she breathed and tried desperately to work out how far gone she was into pregnancy. August…the end of August. That was about 7 months! Only 7 months along and going into labour?! Something was wrong. Something was wrong with her baby!

Mira threw herself to the chest of drawers.

"Kreacher! Get me a bag! Pack me a bag of clothes and things for me. Pack the baby's things in a bag. I'm going to wash then you need to take me to St Mungo's. There's something wrong with the baby Kreacher. There's something wrong. It's too early! It's much too early for the baby to be born! Much too early!"

Why?! Why was the baby coming early?! Pregnancy's lasted 9 months didn't they? At the very least 8 months! Why so early? What happened to her baby? Could she have done something wrong? Had she starved it? Had she hurt it? Had she…had…Mira paused. Had her visions hurt the baby? Had the pain she felt through her connection with Voldemort damaged her baby?! Or had it just damaged her and she couldn't carry the baby anymore?! What if the cruciatus damaged the nerves somewhere inside her and…

What if the baby was dead?! What if in all the arching and unnatural twisting she had hit or hurt the baby, flailing around she could have severely hurt it!

Mira washed off quickly, pausing occasionally when pain hit her, and pulled on some underwear and a dress. She slid into boots because they were the quickest to put on then launched into the room yelling for Kreacher. Kreacher was ready, of course he was. Anxiously he held out his hand and with a pop they were in St Mungo's.

"Miss? Are you alright?" The receptionist asked when Kreacher released her hand and she fell against the wall groaning slightly and grinding her teeth.

"No. I'm in labour." The bit out. "Of course I'm not okay. 7 months…it's too early!"

The receptionist had been about to puff up with indignance and say something horrible, but when Mira mentioned the 7 months bit the receptionist became a flurry of activity.

"I'll take you through. Don't panic. Everything will be OK. You are in good hands now! You are safe."

Mira laughed. It was an empty hollow sound. "I've heard that before. Just help my baby please."

The next few hours were long and short all at the same time. The pain made time slip by at a snail's pace. The activity of everyone around Mira was enough to make her dizzy. Her labour progressed quickly into agonising pain. She had pain through her forehead as it progressed and had to close her eyes to not see St Mungo's around her just in case Voldemort became aware of her and saw where she was through their connection. The people around her asked her to open her eyes. She refused and begged them not to ask her again.

By eleven that evening there were severe signs of distress in the baby and they performed a magical C-section where they opened the stomach and removed the child. Mira was given potions to swallow and something was rubbed over her baby bump. There was a strange feeling of pressure, then a decrease in pressure, then overwhelming pressure and something wiggling around inside her stomach. She felt no pain but the sensations were peculiar. She couldn't help opening her eyes then. There was a hole in her belly and one of the healers had his hands deep inside her moving the bump around. His face was a picture of concentration and the frown on his face was only deepening by the second.

"What's wrong? What's the matter?!"

"I don't know…it's…" He frowned more severely, and then he gasped. "It's twins. Two babies! Get me another healer! I need more blankets and water! Quick!"

People all but ran.

"Ma'am," the healer said, not using her name because she had refused to give it, "you are having twins. An unexpected development but not one we cannot deal with. Now, I am going to remove your first baby, wrap it in a blanket and pass it straight to you. Skin on skin is best but as it's a twin it will be smaller and we need to keep it very warm. Remove the nightdress so it can feed if it wants to. Everything will happen very quickly now."

Mira shoved at the hospital nightdress. It was quite easy to get off but she wasn't happy being bare breasted.

The pressure in her stomach immediately lessened and she watched feeling nauseous as a limp baby body was pulled from her stomach. The healer pulled it out, laid it on Mira's stomach and began rubbing its chest. Baby mewled and the healer cast a spell at the cord connecting the baby to Mira's stomach. The spell sliced and cauterised at the same time, judging by the smell of burning that immediately filled the room. Then baby was wrapped up and plopped onto Mira's chest. She cuddled it in her arms holding the wriggling thing so it couldn't fall of and hurt itself.

Her baby. Hers.

A beautiful baby.

The pressure was back but Mira ignored it just staring at the scrunched up face of the baby in her arms. It was small, far smaller than she expected it to be. It had a thin fuzz of black hair on its head; its skin was blotched with white and red stickiness. It was wet and looked a strange yellow-red colour. But its face was peaceful if scrunched up, its eyelids thick and puffy over eyes that hadn't yet blinked into the world.

The pressure was gone in her stomach. There was a weight on her. Then another baby was carefully placed in her arms. This baby was wrapped in an extra blanket. That baby was smaller too and looked far more fragile. Its eyes were open and blinking, eyes unfocused but a startling blue colour. There was a very faint smattering of hair over its head, making it almost look bald. Still so beautiful though. It had a slightly squarer face than the other baby and had a different shaped mouth.

Mira looked between the babies. Two. Twins. Her twins.

Beautiful.

Twin one, the oldest, mewled a little and to Mira's shock its hair changed to a bright red colour instantly.

"Oh wow! A Metamomorphmagus! That's very rare you know!" The healer commented and after a quick look down Mira saw the hole in her stomach was no longer there. There was a faint line instead and plenty of blood, her skin was bulging still, puffy and raw, but the healer sprinkled a potion over her and began rubbing it into her stomach. "I've nearly finished with you here then we shall need to have a proper examination of your children. There will also be some more potions for you to take alright?"

"Alright." Mira agreed and went back to looking after her babies. The second twin wiggled a bit and opened its mouth sucking on air. Those bright blue eyes still looking around. Twin one was making little noises and its face was even more screwed up than it had been earlier. It wasn't happy.

"Alright then. Here's Healer Albright with your potions Ma'am. And I need to have a look at your babies. Let's check baby one shall we? That would be this one." The healer carefully took twin one, smiling gently as he took him. Mira watched carefully as the healer took him over to a small table with a soft bed on it. He then walked to the other side of the table and smiled at Mira. "This one looks in good health which is surprising considering they are born at 33weeks old. I'll run my scans now. What we are looking for is any pink or red areas in the light."

The healer cast the spells giving the baby a check over and announcing where the baby was underdeveloped or which part wasn't working correctly. Baby one's organs were fine but his stomach was giving him trouble and his heart was a little fast, probably due to stress. Healer suggested a good feed. There was a bit of jaundice too, some sunlight and a sunlight charm would help that. Baby one also turned out to be a boy. Her baby boy.

Baby two, a beautiful daughter, was reasonably healthy as well although very cold and chilling quickly. She was struggling a little with breathing, it was irregular probably because her lungs had only recently developed and the abrupt birth was distressing for her. Her jaundice was equal to her brother's so the same advice was given. When she changed her hair colour to a soft pink when she was attached to Mira's nipple they knew the girl was a metamorphmagus too.

Mira's health was gone over thoroughly. Healers said they found a concerning bit of nerve damage over her body consistent with the cruciatus curse. Thankfully they didn't ask questions, just handed over a soothing potion to counter the effects and gave her a compassionate look. Her general health was good though. Next they gave her a talk on how to care for the babies, babies she had no idea how to deal with. They went over breast feeding, keeping them warm, they practised the spells the babies would need for their health (just the basic ones like a heating charm for blankets, the sunlight charm, and a basic scan of the body and one to take their temperature), then she was shown how to change a nappy and dress them after giving them a small wash with room temperature water and a soft cotton wool bud.

"It's odd you know," one healer mentioned as they levitated the bed to a private room for Mira and the twins to stay in overnight. "These two are the second and third metamorphmagus babies born this month. Another was born on April 2nd. Amazing isn't it. None for ages and then three in one month alone. Something strange is going on with magic these days. It's the unrest. Still, rest well."

The room was small and had two little cots in it as well as her bed which was floated into place and set down. The healer left the room immediately after placing one baby into the cot, leaving the other baby to Mira. Mira watched them for ages, their tiny sleeping bodies moving up and down as they breathed. She completely zoned out of the rest of the world until she realised the hall lights had blacked out. It must have been the dead of morning now. She crossed the room to check on her babies. Each had a tag around their wrists giving the time of their births.

Her son was born on the 17th April at 11.29pm. Her daughter was born at 11.39pm. Ten minutes apart.

On the wall was a poem. Monday's child is fair of face, it began. It was Friday though…her children had been born on Friday. 'Friday's child is loving and giving'. Hopefully that would be true, no matter what came their way.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profits from posting this fanfiction.

 **Summary:** Having lived till 17, it was a shock to go about his day and meet himself. Another him who attacked him. From there the day got stranger; his identity revealed what choice will Harry Potter's reflection take – help or defeat Voldemort?

 **Warnings:** Slash. Character death. Murder, violence, fighting. Drugging. Control. Manipulation.

 **Pairings:** OC/NL, HP/GW

Reflection Chapter 6

* * *

 **19** **th** **April.**

Mira had escaped St Mungo's with the babies after there was uproar and unrest amongst patients about Death Eaters raiding the building. Kreacher had come to her call immediately and popped her away, before going back to erase all record of her having ever been at the hospital. He also picked up several potions and lotions she needed to heal her stomach and keep her strong enough to breast feed. Her babies didn't like the magical travel, but they calmed after Mira fed them and cuddled them a bit.

They fed every few hours and already Mira could feel the drain on her body. Her breasts had swollen more in the last day or so than they had in the last few months. They were up to the task of feeding the babies, it seemed. But Mira felt thirsty constantly and very tired. Kreacher, thank Merlin for Kreacher, brought her good meals, large meals, several times a day. He also gave her loads of juice and squash which he was only too happy to make in front of her after learning her experiences with juice and having her drinks spiked with potions.

Kreacher was so good to them.

* * *

 **23** **rd** **April.**

Mira carefully sealed the letter to Draco in its envelope and sent it off with Kreacher to her cousin. She then went back to her babies. They were sleeping so she didn't disturb them; she just sat down beside their large pillow on the floor in front of the fire.

The fire was protected, Mira had cast all the spells she could to keep the twins safe there, but she thought the heat would help them. She knew their little bodies were too young to regulate their temperature properly, and being so young Mira didn't want to endanger their lives since they couldn't go back to the hospital anymore. Death Eaters were doing constant checks in St Mungo's, Kreacher had checked for her. She couldn't get her babies seen to in St Mungo's. If she went anywhere it would have to be muggle hospital. That thought didn't fill her with excitement. She didn't know a lot about muggle hospitals, but she knew enough to know they had records on everything and she didn't want to risk going in case they didn't let her leave because there was no record of her anywhere.

Mira smoothed her little boys' head. His hair was black again today.

She should name them. She didn't have any names planned.

She was a bad mother - so unprepared.

* * *

 **24** **th** **April.**

She sent Kreacher to Hogwarts to get a reply from Draco. But when it arrived she couldn't bring herself to open it. Instead she busied herself with other things. The twins were a great help in keeping her distracted. They breast fed very frequently, then they pooed, and one would usually be feeding while the other one pooed and then the sequence would repeat itself.

Their umbilical cords had dried up a lot and her little girl's had begun to fall off. It hadn't completely fallen off and there was a little bit of dirt and discharge. Mira wasn't too worried, the discharge wasn't yellow and there was nothing that looked sore so she hoped it would all be alright. She washed them regularly anyway and dried them out. She kept the house very warm with heating charms or fires and didn't dress the twins up in too many clothes so the air could get to them.

Their jaundice had gone thanks to the sunlight spells.

Her little girl still had some troubles breathing in cold rooms so Mira had to make sure she always kept a fire going to keep the air in the room warm and easy to breath. Her daughter got on better breathing with such warm air, and was so much happier.

It was odd really, all the books said that babies would eat, sleep and poo all day long. So Mira found it quite strange that her babies eyes locked onto light and followed it. She had taken to casting gentle lumos spells with her wand and waving it slowly around the room just to watch their little eyes try to follow the movements. It wasn't much, and it never lasted for longer than a few seconds, but Mira thought it was fascinating that eyes thought to be so unfocused could actually look and watch. Of course, then the babies would go to sleep. That tiny bit of focus destroying what was left of their energy.

Mira changed her son's nappy; he grizzled unhappily all the while, then set him back next to his sister to sleep. He was out like a light seconds after he was put back down. His full tummy and empty bowels making him relax into slumber immediately.

Mira wished she could get to sleep so quickly.

If she wasn't being rudely woken up by her upset children, then she was dreaming they needed her and would wake with a start even when they were quiet. She was tired. Bone tired. But when she looked at them she thought it was all worth it.

All of it.

Everything.

She could even forgive everyone who drugged her, deceived her and forced their conception on her. She didn't have unhappy memories of it all, just with hindsight it was a terrible thing – her mind recognised that it was awful. But her memories told her how 'loved' she had been, and how caring and gentle everything was. She supposed she could forgive them for it. She didn't feel traumatised. And now she had her two little babies.

Mira sighed and looked away from the tiny humans. She really should see to the letter, it had been waiting for her long enough.

Carefully she stood up and walked over to the sofas, snatching the letter off the side table as she went and tearing into it. By the time she was sat down she had the folded parchment out of its envelope and had shaken it free of its folds. It began – _My dear cousin, you cannot imagine how relieved I am to hear from you._

A reasonably promising start, although the next paragraph detailed how irresponsible and awful Draco thought her actions were. The second paragraph commented on everyone's reactions and how Narcissa had been fraught with worry, Lucius stressed beyond measure, and Bellatrix mad with…madness. Draco really didn't explain that one further; they both knew what he meant. The Dark Lord's reaction was pleasing to her, and to him strangely. Voldemort had apparently cursed Rodolphus to high heaven and sent several snatchers out to all the places they thought she might be. They had enjoyed no luck however.

 _I am looking forward to meeting my niece and nephew, for they might as well be that to me as I treasure them dearly. I treasure you as well Mira, though I know we have only known each other for a while. It has been a trying time for all of us, and though I know you had little regard for me in your life before I feel our trials have brought us closer. I honour you for your decision to leave, and sincerely wish you and the babies the very best._

 _On that note, I don't suppose you have thought of any names yet? I have heard, on countless occasions, your disdain for our naming traditions and rules. I would have been your most adamant opposition in those arguments had it not been for recent events. Therefore I hope you won't mind my bit of advice regarding the children's names. The mother and father who raised you, who loved you and died for you, had different naming traditions. Perhaps you might choose to honour them in my dear niece and nephew's names. Or perhaps you will chose something that means something for now, gift them with names which are wishes for their future, or for your future._

 _Whatever you chose know that I shall respect it. However, as fair warning, if you chose anything as mundane as Jack or Sally I will give them a different name, a nickname, for me to know them by._

How typical. Still a snobby, arrogant, git. Mira shook her head fondly.

 _As another consideration for names, it would perhaps be in your favour to observe a very particular loophole that my friend Blaise Zabini's mother is particularly fond of. It is completely legitimate and nobody will be able to argue against it, not now. It shall be recognised and understood in pureblood circles, even the most astute and illustrious ones such as my dear family. Should the husband die the widow can opt to have her name revert back to her maiden name, as long as no head of her husband's house is alive or around to oppose the change._

 _And it is now I must give you the news. Several Death Eaters died last night in a raid on suspected 'terrorist' groups who object to the Dark Lord's regime. One of those included Graham Montegue. Your husband is dead. I know not whether this will be a surprise or not, a pleasure or a regret. However I am certain it will be a weight off your mind. With your father in law also deceased, as of a few weeks ago, you are absolutely free to revert back to your maiden name with no opposition to the change._

 _Having looked at the dates of my niece and nephew's birth I feel it pertinent to let you know that they were born only hours after Graham Montegue passed. By the same rules of our society, their name may be your maiden name too as you were deemed a widow upon the second of his death. You and your children may once again bear the name LeStrange. If this gives you some comfort I am pleased. If not, I had no part in any of this and only wished to communicate facts I deemed were relevant to your situation._

 _As to Hogwarts things are much the same. The Carrows are all devilment and torture, my Godfather Professor Snape is as stony as granite, and those faithful to you are still putting up a truly remarkable and courageous fight. I admire them. Truly. I also think they are halfwits with no sense to speak of. Still, they fight for what they believe in and, what I am beginning to suspect, is truly the right thing to do._

 _Give my niece and nephew a kiss from me. Mother and Father would send their love if they could. Your parents and uncle Rabastan would be pleased and would pass on their love, and many other wishes I will not write about._

 _All my best,_

 _Draco L Malfoy._

Mira wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Her husband was dead. She was free. Her children were free of him. They were free.

But at the same time the man she loved, however close amortentia got you to love, was dead. He wasn't a good man but he had been kind and he had been gentle.

Mira settled for crying. Her children's father was dead and they were half orphaned. More people had died. There was one less person in the world to care about her…or even know of her. Another person had died because of Voldemort.

* * *

 **30** **th** **April.**

Mira put down the 'Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore', a biography done by Rita Skeeter. While she hated herself and the book for every damn page she read, she had barely been able to put the thing down since Kreacher obtained it.

Kreacher had, apparently, taken to following Mundungus Fletcher around and taking some of the man's things. Fletcher was a thief who had stolen from the Ancient and Noble house of Black so Kreacher had thought it rather fitting that he steal back from the thief anything and everything he felt like. Kreacher had a dark sense of humour, no doubt inherited from the house, and quite liked watching the 'stupid little wizard' panic over his missing possessions.

The propensity to keep dishing out punishment to the man had served Mira well. So far Kreacher had obtained the biography, which kept Mira entertained for hours, a book of wizarding fairy tales, and some jewellery which reflected light so well the twins had been fascinated by them for ages when Mira strung them up across the room. The once dark family room now all but sparkled with lights.

Pushing the book away and huffing in distaste at it, Mira stood up and went for a wander around the room. The twins were sleeping in the cot not too far from the fire, it was broad daylight outside, the cleaning and washing up had all been taken care of, and Mira had finished anything and everything there was to do.

Well.

Mira paused as she reached the window and stared down into the street below. She still hadn't come up with any names for her babies. They were still just 'son' and 'daughter' to her. She could barely bring herself to look up names. She should though, she supposed.

The thing was she felt a strange sort of foreboding. Something was coming. Something was going to happen. And it was going to happen soon.

Maybe that was why she kept putting off whatever it was that was coming.

She huffed again and walked over to the writing bureau, sitting in the chair and pulling out a piece of parchment. She dipped the quill into the ink and called Kreacher to fetch the baby naming book from her bedroom. She drew a line down the centre of the page while she waited and then, at the bottom of the page, write out LeStrange. That would be their surname. Not Montegue. Not Montegue-LeStrange. Just LeStrange.

Graham Montegue's name died with him. The end of an era. It was almost a shame that the name LeStrange couldn't die along with it. But that didn't mean it would be any better giving her children the surname Black, Bellatrix's maiden name. No, clearly the twins were destined for a dark pureblood name. Perhaps they could revive it and bring it back into prosperity and goodness. That wasn't such a strange thing to wish for was it? She wanted them to be strong and kind, the strangest of the LeStrange's.

Kreacher popped back in with the book and, after thanking him, she opened it and began perusing the various names. She hunted for names she liked, scribbling down any that really struck her fancy. She came across several names that fit with the various traditions of the households of her blood, and the few she liked also went down on the list. She wasn't going to discriminate against any names for any other reason that her not liking it.

As the day went on though she felt more and more oppressed by something unknown, her twins became restless because she was tense, and she was no closer to naming them than before.

* * *

 **May 1** **st** **.**

Mira had enjoyed her morning bathing the little ones, bathing herself, and spending quality time with the well-rested babies who seemed happy to feed, lie there staring around, and dirty their clothes.

Mira had run out of nappies so she had even gone as far as taking the twins out with her in a perambulator; a coach built pram that was large enough to hold both tiny babies top-to-toe, the coverings were very smart black with shining silver trim, and the large white wheels had springs too so Mira could rock the thing as she pushed. She really liked it. Many muggles had commented on it when she went out and about in muggle London. That had been a tense time actually, she had worried that Death Eaters would be lurking. They had been alright though and, with a few pounds Kreacher had managed to scrounge up from around Grimmauld Place, Mira had managed to buy some muggle nappies to try out. Kreacher had of course not been happy and had immediately fetched extra wizarding nappies. Mira was happy with her excursion success though.

After that morning walk she had fed the babies and settled down to research more names. Off and on that went until early afternoon when Mira toppled off the chair she was sitting on screaming blue murder. Agony tore through her body. Her scar exploded with pain. Her vision whited out then coloured images of Death Eaters crowding around and asking what was wrong pervaded her mind's eye.

A horcrux had been destroyed.

Gringotts had been broken into. Bellatrix's vault had been broken into by Harry Potter, something _vital_ had been taken from the vaults, then Harry Potter escaped on a huge angry dragon!

Voldemort's horcrux had been destroyed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Reflection Disclaimer**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profits from posting this fanfiction.

 **Summary:** Having lived till 17, it was a shock to go about his day and meet himself. Another him who attacked him. From there the day got stranger; his identity revealed what choice will Harry Potter's reflection take – help or defeat Voldemort?

 **Warnings:** Slash. Character death. Murder, violence, fighting. Drugging. Control. Manipulation.

 **Pairings:** OC/NL, HP/GW

* * *

 **1** **st** **May**

She had been expecting it. She had known, but that didn't mean she had prepared.

Kreacher had rushed her to bed after her screams had set the twins off, and she had rested in bed for an hour before getting up and getting organised. The twins had needed feeding, that had been her first task. Her second was to send Kreacher out for some baby formula. She even gave him instructions to steal it from St Mungo's if he had to; he just needed to get her some. The time for stiff morals was over, she had very little time left and she needed to be prepared.

She wrote brief scribbled letters. Her handwriting was appalling but at least it was another job done. She left Kreacher detailed instructions verbally. She laid out everything the twins might need then wrote them a brief letter each for when they were older. It took an hour to write each letter and Mira was emotionally drained by the end of it.

She had not long eaten dinner, fed and bathed her babies then put them to bed, than she felt it. She knew.

Her time was up.

She gazed down on her two sweet babies. With floods of tears streaming down her face she leaned over and gave them both a kiss. Her little boys' hair changed to brilliant red in his sleep and he smiled. Mira took that smile with her. She didn't care that it was probably wind. It was a smile, and she'd take it and let it give her strength.

Strength to die with.

"Look after them Kreacher, won't you? And…and tell them I love them. That I did this for them."

"Yes Mistress." Kreacher warbled, his lightbulb large eyes glistening ominously.

"Thank you so much Kreacher. I couldn't have spent so much wonderful time with them if it hadn't of been for you."

Mira had Kreacher take her to Diagon Alley where she used the vanishing cupboard to get into Hogwarts. No sooner had she appeared inside the Room of Requirement did pain lash through her head like a thousand knives and that terrible hissing tone of Voldemort screamed in her ears.

Another Horcrux gone. How many more…? How many?!

The castle was eerily silent. Mira felt chills run up and down her body. Even the portraits she passed were silent, not a single person daring to even breathe a word.

She knew the castle like the back of her hand and started to descend towards the Great Hall. When she got there the doors were shut and would not open for her. She dare not try her wand, she didn't want to draw any attention to herself.

There was a scream though. A scream from inside. Mira tried again to pull on the door, to no avail.

Agony.

Agony shot like lightning through her brain and sent her falling to her knees. It was unexpected but it hurt just as badly as her scar hurt when Voldemort was in a rage.

Then a hiss.

Mira screwed her eyes shut and clapped her hands over her ears not wanting to hear. That voice spoke to her mind though.

"Hand over Harry Potter by midnight…"

No. Oh no. They would not hand him over. It couldn't end like that. No.

There was yelling in the great hall. When the agony subsided Mira crawled forwards and pressed her ear to the large door trying to hear.

Some people saying they needed to hand over Harry, others refusing. Then spells. Curses and hexes…then a loud cheer. McGonagall's voice instructed people what to do and the clip-clop of footsteps coming closer.

Mira flung herself to the side just in time as the large doors burst open to allow people out of the hall. Slytherin's. Slytherin's first being led out by prefects and Mr Filch. They were heading for the dungeons.

Thinking quickly Mira pressed herself back into the wall, hiding behind the door. She hoped nobody would see her. She could see them from her hiding place, they were walking only inches from her after all, but their eyes were all facing forwards so they shouldn't see. She was tempted to grab Draco's arm when she saw him pass her, that shock of white blonde hair unmistakable. She withheld herself though. She couldn't be sure what her cousin would do, and at the very least he would draw attention to her and she was trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

Although she didn't exactly fit in with her pale green wizarding robes. The remains of her baby bump didn't help either. At least that was something she could do something about. Concentrating she altered her appearance, giving herself a flat stomach much like the other witches her age had. She straightened and shortened her hair, altered her eyes to a brown so she was able to blend in better despite her clothes. Next she would need some clothes. She had to get some clothes that weren't pureblood wizarding robes.

More people left the great hall, all in black over-robes. Mira did her best to follow them but stay hidden. She needed different robes and quickly. She couldn't blend in like this.

Then the Order came marching down a hallway. She hid quickly behind a statue and watched as Remus, Tonks, Kingsley and loads more people walked by. They were all in ordinary clothes. Mira straightened her spine. With another thought to her appearance she gave herself the face of one of the girls Dudley hung around with the summer before he left. An ordinary face. Mira wouldn't be able to hold it indefinitely, but she could do it long enough to be of service to the Order.

She jumped out and joined their ranks. The person next to her whirled around and pointed his wand at her.

"Who are you?"

"I'm here to help fight He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." She declared with a scowl. "What does it matter who I am? I heard there would be a fight and I came."

"How did you hear?!" The man demanded but he did look relieved. Mira counted that as a win.

"The voice in my head demanded Hogwarts handed over Harry Potter. I wasn't about to allow that if I could help it."

"Come on then." The man allowed and Mira continued to follow them.

They went into the Great Hall. Other people arrived reasonably quickly. Mira saw Harry Potter, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, loads of the other people from Dumbledore's Army. Aberforth Dumbledore was there, though she purposefully didn't look at him. She felt fear just seeing him, and intense hate. The other Weasleys arrived! Neville's Gran came, Percy Weasley came which was a surprise to most people, and a whole lot of other people who were supposed to be on the run. Dean Thomas, Lee Jordan, Penelope Clearwater, Cho Chang…loads of people arrived with faces set like storm clouds ready and raring to go.

Kingsley gave everyone a speech, explaining where everyone was to go. Harry, Ron and Hermione left shortly after though not before Mira spotted Harry talking quickly with Remus and Tonks. Whatever was said light up Harry's face, before sending dismay over him. He nodded with decision then left them.

Mira tried to follow discreetly but lost them, not knowing where they were headed for. She went about doing as Kingsley had asked of her group and went to help with defences. She ended up on the grounds only moments before Death Eaters began to attack. She was shoulder to shoulder with students, aurors and civilians all standing proud if a little scared with their wands out.

Mira drew her wand and dropped down ready to run into the fray when it came.

And it did come.

The Death Eaters seemed like a never ending smothering fog. Within the fog came the creatures of cold and ice; Dementors swooped down and circled everyone. Mira cast her Patronus as quickly as she could, startling for a moment when two little birds swooped from the end of her wand, dancing around each other, before swooping towards the most vile creatures in the wizarding world. Her babies. Her babies fighting off evil.

On and on it went. There was blood everywhere, bodies everywhere. Death Eaters fell, other people fell. Mira battled all she could, her favourite spell making things easier as her opponents dropped like flies. She was out of practise but she was so twitchy from all the stress of the last however many months that she had unbelievably fast reaction times.

Wave upon wave upon wave of attacks came. She helped take down a giant.

She didn't know how long they had been fighting but eventually a retreat into the castle was called. She, like many others, ran.

They battled off werewolves that tried to corner them. They battled through them. Mira accidentally cast one of the spells her mother taught her and sent one werewolf screaming and collapsing to the floor clutching where his bits had been. Another werewolf turned his eyes onto Mira but a spell was shot at him before he could get to her.

Inside they tried to barricade the door. It didn't work but it gave them a few moments reprieve and slowed the Death Eaters down a little bit. From there they had advantage as the doors created a bottleneck allowing them easy pickings at their enemy. Somebody misfired and blew up a wall after a while and that gave everyone a huge surprise, causing casualties on both sides.

On and on the battle went. Mira felt bone tired but her mind whirred and her wand arm was flicking and stabbing out spells faster than her mind could keep up with. Survival instinct kept her fighting. Dreams kept her fighting. The twins kept her fighting.

Then searing pain through her head distracted her. Blood poured down from her head and blurred her vision. Then her sight of the physical world disappeared, and she saw Voldemort screaming with rage and pain.

Another horcrux gone. The diary, the ring, the locket, another one, now one today…5. 5 gone. All that was left was Nagini and…

"It's Bellatrix's kid!"

"Take her!"

Arms grabbed her. Mira couldn't see but she fought them. She used her shoulder to wipe one eye. Death Eaters had her. She screamed and fought them off. Stupidly they left her wand in her hand. She hexed them, raged upon them with any and all spells that came to mind. They fell, but she heard her name echo through the other Death Eaters.

She ran.

She ran back into the castle, deeper into its depths. She knew it well and she ran the labyrinth of corridors like a master. Few followed her. But those that did she took down, disarmed or injured.

Time had no meaning in a battle. It seemed like an age had gone, and at the same time felt like only a few seconds had passed.

Mira found an alcove to hide in just as another vision seized her.

Voldemort discussed wands and wand lore…discussed the Deathly Hallows. Whatever they were! Then Voldemort killed Snape…he ordered Nagini to murder the man then he turned and left. One hour's ceasefire.

 _One hour._

The hissing, sibilant tones of Voldemort declared to everyone. Mira felt the voice as if it was slithering inside of her. She shuddered and curled in on herself.

She had known it would come. She knew it would come.

 _One hour of ceasefire for Harry Potter to face Voldemort._

This was the end. Voldemort was calling for Harry's death. He was calling for it and expecting to get it. Mira knew even as everybody would protest that Harry Potter would go. A man who had taken over the role she thought she played, a man who had hunted down all the horcrux's in less than a year, would most certainly lay down his life for his friends…for the world.

And she had to stop him. It wasn't his place. He couldn't die. It would be an utterly and completely useless death. It was pointless. It would serve no purpose.

But…

But if it was her…if Voldemort killed her thinking it was Harry then…then the death would be meaningful. It would accomplish something.

Mira shakily stood up, begging for forgiveness from her babies for what she was about to do. She knew it had to come to this, she knew it had to happen. She had never expected to survive and she had left knowing it would happen. But it was one think to know it and another thing completely to walk willingly towards it.

Mira made a quick detour to the Room of Requirement to get some clothes. Only, the moment she opened the doors flames exploded out, throwing her backwards and burning her forearm. She spelled the doors closed and lay there breathing heavily trying to recover.

What the hell was that?! A fire in the Room of Requirement?! Why?! Who would do that?! Unless somebody did it to make sure nobody had a place to hide.

That meant she needed to go somewhere else to get clothes.

She ran to Gryffindor tower praying that it would be open. It wasn't but she reached it and the fat lady swung open anyway commenting on the poor dear. Mira thanked her, ran in and ignore anybody who tried to talk to her about what was happening. She brushed everyone off and ran into the seventh year boy's dormitories. Grabbing some jeans off the floor, a t-shirt, a jumper and a Hogwarts robe Mira quickly set about changing. Once done she grabbed a small mirror from one of the girls in the common room and ran back out again.

Running down the staircases and out of the castle at breakneck speed, Mira jumped broken bodies and piles of rubble. Nobody stopped her, not even the look outs. She ran towards the forest. She had to find Harry. She _had to_. And the forbidden forest seemed like the only plausible place for Voldemort to be hiding out.

She ran, casting 'point me' spells as she went and hoping she was going the right way. The woods were silent but deadly, the large trees casting terrifying shadows in the moonlight. Mira went on regardless, only one thing in her mind. She hoped, desperately hoped, she would find Harry before he offered himself up. She had to find him.

Deep in the forest she heard voices, cackling voices. She was too far in. She could hear her mother. She turned and ran in the other direction, her lungs protesting painfully at the exercise and her stomach painfully sore from exertion.

"…going to die." That voice. That voice wasn't her mother's. She knew that voice.

Mira knew that voice. That was Harry Potter's voice.

It didn't take her long to get there. She emerged through the bushes to see Harry talking to thin air.

"You can't go!" She declared as Harry abruptly spun around to face her, alarmed for some reason. She cast the disarming spell and caught his wand. He scowled, dropping his hand to his pocket. Did he have another wand? She stepped forwards quickly allowing her shape to change to his. "You cannot die. You have to live. There…there has to be a Harry Potter."

The other Harry stared for a moment, then his alarm faded and he righted his stance to stand tall and proud.

"You. I…that is, Aberforth never did tell me who you were."

"It doesn't really matter now does it?" Mira said softly and approached Harry who didn't look at all hostile now. Harry frowned and nodded stubbornly.

"It does matter, it always has."

"I'm Mira. Mirabella LeStrange, actually, but I prefer to go by Mira." She mumbled cautiously, watching Harry for any signs of an imminent attack. Harry just frowned further then stared at her with pity. She laughed a little bitterly. "Yes, shocking isn't it? Imagine finding that out at Gringotts then being handed over to your loving _family_ only hours after discovering your whole life was a lie."

"I…I didn't know. But…But Aberforth didn't…I mean…" Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair in a very Harry-like gesture. Mira couldn't stop a smile. She had done that often as Harry. Her appearance slipped back into her Mira form and Harry scanned her all over carefully. "He told me he did it so that the wizarding world had a chance. He told me, and reminded me every year when he kidnapped you and took copies of your memories, that you were needed as Harry so I could train and learn to face my destiny. I think…My cage was just as bad as yours."

"I don't think so." Mira shook her head. How could Harry's cage be anything like hers?! He didn't know what she faced.

"I saw everything you did each year. I had to be you. I had to become the Harry Potter I saw in those, and at the same time every day was a training day. I had to learn and train and _fight_. Alastor and Aberforth raised me to kill Voldemort or be killed by him. I had no life except that."

"And the life I had, the future I hoped for, was snatched away from me and I was given another that was the complete opposite of everything I liked and loved about this world. I spent a year at Voldemort's side, with Death Eaters guarding me like some treasure. I was drugged, I was controlled, I was restrained and threatened all year and now…now I get to face my death because I do have to die. I have to die so you can win."

"The Horcrux." Harry nodded and his eyes fell on her forehead. He touched the scar upon his own head and winced.

"How did you get that?"

"Aberforth carved it into my forehead."

Mira and Harry stood opposite each other not really sure what to say for a few moments before Mira sighed and looked down at the wands she held. She still had Harry's. It wasn't the one she had from Ollivander though. What happened to her phoenix tail feather wand?

As if reading her thoughts Harry answered. "There was an accident with the holly wand. But we still clash, that priori incantatum thing has nearly happened again even though both of us have different wands now. Don't ask."

"Ah. Okay. Well, here. You better have mine because Voldemort knows what this wand looks like. He was there when my parents procured it for me." Harry took the wand and gave a strange chuckle.

"This is really strange. I didn't think our meeting would ever be like this."

"Yes well, I guess we are just doomed to experience strange things." Mira sighed and Harry nodded again.

"Here, you should see this before you go. Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore I mean, left this for you…for us. I don't know. It gets a little confusing." Harry held out one hand to Mira and in the other hand he held something up. She stepped forward, hesitating briefly before shaking her head at her own nonsense. His hand wasn't going to hurt her, and even if it was the worst Harry would do was kill her which would solve another problem at any rate. She took his hand and stepped close. He took a step closer to her and took her other hand in his, something hard pressing between their palms.

"Before you came I was talking with some people I think you should see." He muttered then smiled and glanced around him. "Look."

Mira did.

There around her was the family she thought she belonged to. Lily and James Potter. Sirius Black. Remus Lupin. All of them looked at her with smiles. All of them. _All_ of them looked at _her_.

"H-h- _how?!_ " Mira spluttered and looked between everyone and Harry. He smiled at her, reassuringly and affectionately.

"The resurrection stone. One of the hallows."

"But the hallows are a story. It's not real."

"But they look real don't they? And they are, though they are only shades. To have the real thing, properly alive, isn't possible." Mira, flabbergasted, nodded a little. She had no real comprehension of what he meant, but she understood she had an opportunity. It was as close she would ever get to seeing those she thought of as her parents. And they were looking at _her._

"H-Hello." She muttered – joy, grief, shock all waring inside of her like a tornado spinning and clashing.

"Oh my darlings! You have been so brave! Both of you have been so very brave." Lily cooed looking between both Mira and Harry.

Tears spilled over Mira's cheeks and her lips shook.

"Wha-…m-m-me too?" She asked, her voice tiny and stuttering. Lily smiled at her so warmly that Mira couldn't be in any doubt.

"Of course you too." James exclaimed with certainty. "We might have thought you were Harry when we were alive but you learn a lot about life when you are dead. You are both our baby. Our very, _very_ brave baby."

"I…" Mira gasped, overly emotional and voiceless.

"Thank you." Harry whispered and Lily and James Potter nodded, beaming at him.

"Any time."

"Remus." Harry muttered and Mira glanced to Remus before looking to Harry. What was it? "Your son…"

"He will grow up knowing his parents fought for him and the good of all of wizarding kind, and that they died fighting for a better world. One day he will understand." Remus nodded, his wise words echoing around them but searing straight through Mira's soul.

"I hope…I hope my babies understand that too." She whispered.

Harry jerked, nearly pulling his hand from where it was clasped around hers. His shock was abrupt and deep, eyes wide and staring at her in horrified confusion. "What?! Babies?!"

"I have twins."

"Why?! _How?!_ "

"I gave birth to them. Amortentia," Was the simplest thing Mira could say. Harry gulped, looking sick, but nodded.

"They will know and they will understand." Sirius' voice said and Mira turned to him with more tears welling up.

"Oh Sirius…I am so sorry. So sorry."

"Hey, hey! It was nobody's fault but Bellatrix's. Do not blame yourself for me. I went to fight for what I believed in."

"Does it hurt? Dying?" Harry asked and Mira nodded, wanting to know that answer to that question too.

Sirius smiled, it was a little sad but it was also promising. "Quicker than falling asleep."

Mira gasped and nodded, swallowing quickly. Good. That was good.

Harry squeezed her hands. She looked to him sharply and squeezed his hands with all her might.

"Promise me…Promise me you will take care of my babies. And…and if you can't, find someone good to take care of them. Please."

"I will. I promise I will." Harry muttered, tears welling up in his eyes to match the ones blurring hers. She nodded and closed her eyes allowing the tears to fall. When she could gather the courage she looked back to the shades gathered around her.

"I will see you soon." She whispered completely choked up.

"No. You take us with you." Lily said. "Always." She smiled that loving motherly smile and Mira nodded again and released Harry's hands, her view of the shades leaving. She gasped out a sob and clutched her hand to her heart steeling as best she could against the pain. Harry put his hand on her shoulder, the only comfort he could give her. She nodded and bit her lip.

Fumbling she pulled out a mirror, held it up and concentrated on changing her shape to Harry's. It took concentration to grow that inch or so to match his height. Everything else was easy. Soon there was a carbon copy of Harry next to the real Harry. It was impossible to tell them apart. Harry smiled and pulled her into a hug, his cheeks wet with tears. She hugged him back brutally.

"Thank you. Just…for everyone, thank you." She knew what he was saying and it gave her a bit more courage knowing that she was doing this for the good of everybody. Her death wouldn't be in vain.

"Take care of them. I love them."

"I will. Here take these, I have spares." He pulled back, coughing and wiping his eyes before wiping hers and sliding his pair of glasses onto her nose. "You better go."

Mira nodded and took a deep breath. Wrapping the cloak around herself she turned away.

Then she walked.

She all but stumbled and tripped through the forest. She didn't know where she went really, just blindly walked. It was odd, but she felt like people were besides her. Perhaps they were. Either way she made her way through the tangled forest quietly until she came across a clearing. Dolohov and Yaxley were muttering something about animals, Voldemort was lamenting something about being mistaken about Harry's chivalry.

That was when Mira pulled the cloak off.

"You weren't."

All eyes turned to her, seeing only Harry. Voldemort smirked. Mira barely looked at him, instead choosing to look to Hagrid who had just been silenced by Rowle. Then Mira looked to his mother. She was alone. Mira wondered where her father was, and her uncle, then passed it off as unimportant. She saw Narcissa there, and Lucius. No Draco…was that a good thing or a bad thing? Mira didn't suppose it mattered. She was going to die. Nothing about life really mattered now.

Except her babies. Her babies mattered. She wished she had thought of names before.

Voldemort raised his wand, the wand he took from Professor Dumbledore.

Green light flashed at her.

Mira smiled. Her beautiful boy and girl. Her twins. She loved them. She would miss them. But this was for them.

* * *

AN: I hope I did the meeting between Harry and Mira justice as well as the meeting between her and the Potters. I spent ages writing that, though not as much time as I spent agonising over the next chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Reflection Disclaimer**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profits from posting this fanfiction.

 **Summary:** Having lived till 17, it was a shock to go about his day and meet himself. Another him who attacked him. From there the day got stranger; his identity revealed what choice will Harry Potter's reflection take – help or defeat Voldemort?

 **Warnings:** Slash. Character death. Murder, violence, fighting. Drugging. Control. Manipulation.

 **Pairings:** OC/NL, HP/GW

* * *

Reflection Chapter 8

Authors Note: This chapter cost me quite a bit of money, believe it or not. When I was writing it I wanted to use some of the speech from the actual Harry Potter books. That led me on a hunt to find my old copies which led me to the shack (a giant shed in our back garden) where the stuff that won't fit in the house has been stored. Unfortunately because we live in a little hamlet in the countryside the shack has been used by lots of critters as a safe haven. My books were covered in mouse poo and had clearly been wet, and dried numerous times over. My copy of the Order of the Phoenix was also missing a great many pages which were eventually found, we think, in a mouse nest being used to line it. Thus, I bought a new book.

As an **additional warning** , this chapter contains a lot of bits I copied from my newly purchased book. I wanted the speech to fit, therefore I used what was done already with a few alterations and shuffling bits around so it all fitted in with Mira's story.

* * *

The light was bright. It was almost blinding. Mira had her eyes shut but the light was blinding. She blinked and put her hand up to shield her eyes, waiting for them to adjust as she sat up then stood up.

Everywhere around her was white and bright.

There was a whimpering noise.

That had Mira up and alert immediately. She walked around trying to find the noise. It sounded like a baby. She looked around and around and then spied something dark pink beneath a white bench. She crouched down. It was a whimpering childlike being, wounded and fragile looking but at the same time completely repellent. It didn't look anything like her babies. She wanted to comfort it but at the same time didn't want to touch it at all.

"You cannot help it."

She knew that voice. She stood up and turned around. Behind her, in a midnight blue robe, and looking younger and healthier than he had been at death, was Albus Dumbledore. Mira didn't know whether to greet him or shout at him.

His eyes flicked to the creature beneath the bench and he said again, "you cannot help it."

"Professor…you're…" She didn't say it but Dumbledore's eyes crinkled a little.

"Harry." Dumbledore spread his arms wide, and then hesitated. "Or should I say Mira! You wonderful, brave, brave woman. Come, let us walk."

Dumbledore walked over to a seat not too far away, but further away from the flayed, grotesque childlike being. Mira was relieved for the distance. It didn't feel good being near that thing. Being near the headmaster was so much better…though held its own trepidation. Mira sat, when invited to, and spared a brief gaze at the high sparkling ceiling before glancing back at her old headmaster. He looked so young, and healthy. He still had his wizened looks of course, and that long white beard. But somehow he looked exactly as she remembered, but healthier and less haggard. And yet…

"Professor, you died. You're dead." She started, confused. He nodded, so matter of fact, and gifted her with a smile.

"Dead? Yes, I believe I am."

"Then, so am I." Mira nodded, confirming that to herself although she did know she was going to die. Dying wasn't what she expected it to be though. She wasn't exactly sure what she had expected, perhaps just a nothingness. She at least didn't expect to be able to think. She assumed she would just…stop.

"Ah, that is the question isn't it? On the whole, I think not." Dumbledore said with a mysterious smile and a gentle beckoning. Mira hesitated only a second before following the old man.

"Not? I'm not dead?"

"No."

"But I should have died! I went there to die! I didn't raise my wand, or fight, or _anything_. I meant for him to kill me!"

"And that, my dear, is the point."

"I don't understand Professor." Mira shook her head and rubbed her forehead, touching the scar that was there lightly. She flinched. It wasn't sore but…but she didn't want to touch it. It was supposed to go wasn't it? That was why she walked to her death. She went to get rid of that…and to save her children. Her babies.

"Ah. And therein lays the difficulty I am sure. You have lived a rather different life these last few months. I do, however, have every faith in you. Think, and you shall conclude the right answer. Think. We have time."

Yes. They were dead…or something. Mira supposed there was time. She had…

"I let him kill me? Is that the answer? I died willingly?"

"You did." Came the sage agreement and a nod of encouragement, those blue eyes looking expectantly at Mira.

So she hadn't finished working it out. "I did it so his horcrux would die." She glanced around her, eyes seeking the little creature. That…it looked so disgusting, flayed and hideous. Unnatural. Yet it had some life in it…a terrible life. Voldemort's soul. That creature was Voldemort's soul. "So that's the horcrux? It is gone?"

"Yes. Oh yes. Voldemort destroyed it completely. You are your own person now."

"With no hangers on." Mira laughed and touched her stomach a little before shaking her head, tears welling up. The headmaster took her hand.

"Not any more. No shadows following you."

"But then…you said I was not dead." Mira recounted, frowning further. His hand squeezed hers a little, eyes once again encouraging and patiently waiting for her to reach the answer herself. She breathed out a little, disappointed he wasn't just explaining everything. But then, he had been a teacher.

"I died willingly and that destroyed the horcrux. But the killing curse kills bodies, not souls, doesn't it? Only dementors take souls. So shouldn't I be dead?"

"Think back. Remember what he did, in his ignorance, in his greed and cruelty. In his arrogance."

Mira thought. Everything Voldemort did was greedy and cruel. He was always arrogant. But…but something…he didn't understand something. He was ignorant of something…what…oh. The answer came rather quickly, like a light that had been turned on. Her mind flashed to Quirrell; how she couldn't touch him because it burnt him, it _hurt_ him. Voldemort didn't understand love. It physically wounded him. But then in fourth year Voldemort could touch Harry…or Mira.

"He took my blood."

"Exactly so!" Dumbledore smiled, pleased at her answer. That gave her pleasure; the pleasure of success. "He chose to be resurrected with your blood. And in your blood lay the protection of your mother, of Lily Potter, and her love. By taking that and creating new life, a new body for himself, Voldemort linked himself to you and, by extension, you to him. Thus tying you to life, as he is still alive. You are tethered to life while he lives!"

"But isn't that the prophecy Professor? Neither can live while the other survives? I thought…well…I suppose I thought I had to kill him but with me not being Harry perhaps I didn't have to. Or have I got something wrong somewhere?"

"You were the seventh Horcrux, the Horcrux he never meant to make. He had rendered his soul too unstable that it broke apart when he committed those acts of unspeakable evil, the murder of your parents, the attempted killing of a child. But what escaped from that room that day was even less than he knew. He left part of himself latched to you, the would-be victim who had survived."

Dumbledore looked very pleased, ecstatically happy by the next words. He even had a beaming smile lighting up his face as he spoke, despite the seriousness of the topic. "His knowledge remained woefully incomplete! That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children's tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing. _Nothing_. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth which he has never grasped."

"He took your blood believing it would strengthen him. He took into his body a tiny part of the enchantment Lily Potter laid upon you when she died for you, an enchantment made even more potent and powerful as you were not hers by blood but she willingly died for you anyway. Ignorant though she was to the deception, she died for her child. Voldemort's body keeps her sacrifice alive, and while that enchantment survives, so do you and so does Voldemort's one last hope for himself."

"You knew then? You knew all along!?"

"I postulated. But my guesses have, usually, been good." Such a happy tone for a statement that hammered home a terrible thought.

"And me? What about me? I mean, I'm not Harry! So why was it about me?! I don't fit the prophecy!"

"Ah, but you see prophecies are open to interpretation. Harry Potter was born as the seventh month dies. He was born to Lily and James, and Voldemort's obsession, his attention, did indeed mark _Harry_ as his equal. He attacked the Potters."

"But the Harry in the bed was me."

"Yes, but that matters not. Names have power. He might have marked your head, but he marked Harry's name even as he disguised his own." Dumbledore lightly touched the scar on Mira's head. "You survived him, and you became the name, you became Harry Potter. You, and Harry, are equally the one person. What you must understand is that you, Harry, and Lord Voldemort have journeyed together into realms of magic hitherto unknown and untested. But here is what I think happened, and it is unprecedented, and nobody could ever have predicted it or explained any of it before."

Dumbledore went on to explain how names were magical and despite the mix up that names had impossible power. Mira was Harry. Voldemort marked her thinking, believing, she was Harry. She lived Harry's life, the exact life that would have befallen the real Harry had she not been in his place. Her destiny was the same as his, or rather her destiny became his and his life became hers as he watched and learned about the Harry she was, and became that Harry himself.

The attacks by Voldemort, the resurrection stone and indeed the Elder wand were all explained to Mira, things she hadn't known of because she hadn't been 'Harry' for a great many months, Harry had been Harry. She felt confused by the end of the long speech, though at the same time she felt more enlightened.

Her wand, Harry's wand, suited them both perfectly, because they were each other. The fact that Mira and Harry were so linked to Voldemort, and their wands were twinned, meant strange magical phenomena. Mira remembered Harry had mentioned something about another priori incantatum.

As far as she understood it now, back in fourth year she had known she was going to die. Had accepted, perhaps even embraced it, and that courage and acceptance was something Lord Voldemort was not capable of. He was terrified of it, fought it off in every way it was possible to do so. Therefore, Mira's courage won out over the terror, and her wand overpowered his. Something had then happened between the wands; their relationship echoed the relationship between their masters.

"I believe that your wand imbibed some of the power and qualities of Voldemort's wand that night, which is to say that it contained a little of Voldemort himself. So your wand recognised him when he pursued you, or should I say Harry in July, recognised a man who was both kin and mortal enemy. It regurgitated some of his own magic against him, magic more powerful than anything Lucius' wand had ever performed…"

Dumbledore explained on and on about how the wand was powerful, too powerful for any wand that Voldemort borrowed to work properly against Harry's. Thus Voldemort sought a stronger wand.

"He killed me with _your_ wand though professor. I recognised it."

"He _failed_ to kill you with my wand. I think we can agree that you are not dead – though, of course, I do not minimise your sufferings, or indeed Harry's sufferings, which I am sure were severe." The words were hastened to be added, no doubt trying to avoid discourteousness. Mira hadn't cared.

"I didn't feel anything at the time, and I feel great now. I don't even feel very tired at the moment." Mira breathed and shifted a little. "So, so we are agreed I'm not dead because I'm still tied to Voldemort. But he isn't tied to me anymore is he? He can be killed?"

"That is right."

"So, where am I if I'm not dead?"

"The in between. A place of waiting. What does it look like to you?"

"Kings Cross station…only it's an awful lot cleaner and brighter, and there are no trains as far as I can see."

That seemed a trifling thing though compared to something that just occurred to her. She almost dreaded the answer, but somethings had to be known.

"Professor? Did you know? About Harry and me, I mean, did you know?" She asked tentatively.

Dumledore frowned a little, a look of regret etching deep into those cavernous wrinkles. The twinkle in his eye seemed dimmed now and he stroked his beard for a second before answering, his voice trembling a little as he spoke what could only be the truth. "I admit, though knowledgeable on a great many subjects, and interested in far more, I never considered the possibility of a metamorphmagus living and growing in an alternate form to their true selves. I would never, even in my best and most accurate guesses, have supposed it to be possible. However, death is, as they say, all knowing; and since passing I have learned a great deal more about living than I would ever have supposed to know. So, to answer your question; no, I did not know. It would never have been a consideration for me either, had I even known of your existence. I am a lot of things but I have never wished childhoods destroyed. I believed you to be Harry Potter."

"So you had no idea? This was all Aberforth's doing?"

"Hm, I believe so. I assume he thought his actions were for the greater good."

"Or perhaps to spite you? Ruin your plans?"

"Ah, you have come to understand our fraternal disagreement."

"Well there was a book. And the Hallows! The Deathly Hallows."

"Ah yes." The smile slipped from Dumbledore's face. He looked tired suddenly, and worried. Sad even. "Can you forgive me? Can you ever forgive me for not telling you? You and Harry…or either of you. I dreaded your failure, as I myself failed. I crave your pardon. Though I have known, for some time now, that you are the better man…woman."

The tears in Dumbledore's eyes startled Mira, scared her. She squeezed the hand that still held hers. He seemed grateful for that encouragement and spewed out the whole torrid tale of how he was lured, like a fool, to chase the dream of desperate men. By the end of it Mira was convincing Dumbledore, more than herself, that Dumbledore, while a manipulator and while trying not to die, he was not the same as Voldemort. He had a shared obsession with Grindelwald, something they pursued together. The talk did end up revealing some information about James Potter's cloak, and about Harry Potter, the real Harry Potter, descending from one of the Peverell brothers, the creators of the Deathly Hallows.

Dumbledore spoke of a lot of regrets; not giving the cloak to Lily and James Potter so they could hide, of being caught inside that obsession, and of endangering and perhaps even being ultimately responsible for Ariana's death. Dumbledore spoke of hate and how Harry, how Mira, should despise him for ultimately Mira's life came down to that fateful day when Ariana was killed in the fight the two Dumbledore brothers had with Grindelwald.

Mira couldn't hate him though. She couldn't and she wouldn't. His tears, as if they weren't contrition enough for any past sins, broke her heart. She couldn't resent her mentor for the boy he once was. Not even when it brought her the life it did. She couldn't really resent it either. Not now. She might have before, but now she had her babies, her little family, she had little hate left in her.

"You are the best man I know."

"Oh no Mira, only the second best. For you know Harry Potter, and whether he is you or you are him, Harry Potter is the best man, the most worthy man. From what you have told me, from what I have seen, and from what we can both assume, he is selfless and courageous. He is worthy of the Hallows. Though keep an eye out just in case either of your ever loose yourselves to the illusion of power."

"About that power though sir, Voldemort has the wand."

And so their talk went on. Winning the wand, not killing with it was the key. Draco had won the wand from Dumbledore, hadn't that been a shock. But Harry had won it from Draco at Christmas time, and then Mira had won it from Harry only a little while ago in the forest. So now, technically, the wand was hers to command.

"But…but Voldemort just killed me with it! So he is the real victor of the wand."

"Oh no, that is not true at all. You forget Mira; there is no power on earth that exceeds a sacrifice for love. You sacrificed your life, for reasons all your own but all of them no doubt good and pure, and that entitles you the victor. And, as afore mentioned of course, you are not dead."

"Then…" Mira paused. "Then I have to go back…" It wasn't quite a question, but wasn't quite a concrete statement either.

"That is up to you."

"I have a choice?" How novel.

"Oh yes. We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to…let's say…board a train."

"And where would it take me?"

"On." Came the simple answer.

"What…what do you think I should do Professor?"

Dumbledore frowned in thought, seemingly debating everything. "I think should you chose to travel on that Harry Potter would find a way to prevail, although at what cost I do not dare calculate. Should you choose to return, to aid in the fight, there is a chance Voldemort will be finished for good, a greater chance with two Harry's than with one. Those odds do sound a lot more tempting don't they. Two, instead of one."

Two…twins. Mira's twins. Two, instead of one.

And it wasn't like Death was very scary. It was, after all, only Kings Cross station. Dumbledore must have read something in her expression for he went on to confirm her thoughts, and encourage her goodness and empathy.

"By returning you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, fewer families are torn apart. If that seems to you a worthy goal, then we say goodbye for the present."

Mira sent one last gaze to the little creature, torn, raw and trembling as he was.

"Do not pity the dead. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love."

"I will Professor. And thank you…just…tell me…is this real? Or is it just happening inside my head?"

"Of course it is happening inside your head. But why on earth should that mean it is not real?"

Mira smiled. "I will miss you Professor."

"And I you, but remember, it does not do to dwell on dreams Mira…or shall I say, to dwell within dreams."

And Mira woke up.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profits from posting this fanfiction.

 **Summary:** Having lived till 17, it was a shock to go about his day and meet himself. Another him who attacked him. From there the day got stranger; his identity revealed what choice will Harry Potter's reflection take – help or defeat Voldemort?

 **Warnings:** Slash. Character death. Murder, violence, fighting. Drugging. Control. Manipulation.

 **Pairings:** OC/NL, HP/GW

* * *

Reflection Chapter 9

The ground was hard and frigid beneath her. Her limbs felt achy and heavy, she couldn't have moved them if she had tried her damnedest. She was face down in the dirt, leaves and broken twigs lying beneath her, a pine cone only inches from her face. She could barely see it; her eyes were only squinted open, too heavy to open further. She could hear talking, hissed talking and agitated voices. She heard her mother offer help and babble words dripping with that obsessive love Bellatrix seemed to hold for the monster. She heard Voldemort's shaky question, was the boy dead?

"You! Examine him!"

Hesitant footsteps approached and Mira felt her heart hammer traitorously loud in her chest. Her chest! Mira concentrated…please let her still be in Harry's form. Eyes closed she couldn't be certain but her chest felt flatter and less cushioned. As hands, softer than she had been expecting, turned her over quickly, Mira felt certain she had perfected her look. She couldn't see but it felt right. She should be used to how 'Harry' felt; after all it was more familiar than her own skin.

A hand pulled up an eyelid, crept inside her clothes and pressed on her chest. She knew the person, the woman, felt her heart beating wildly – she knew it. And when a voice whispered to her she knew who it was.

" _Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?_ "

Well that Mira didn't know exactly. Although she had seen Draco leaving the hall, escorted by prefects and Mr Filch.

" _Yes, aunty._ " She breathed, the words barely there as she nearly silently let them slide from her lips.

The hand was pulled abruptly back.

"Dead!" Narcissa announced. "He is quite dead."

And that was when the cheers went up. They yelled, stamped their feet, cheered to high heavens and shot celebratory sparks into the air.

Mira breathed a sigh of relief. Narcissa had not given her away. Probably because she would only be permitted into Hogwarts to look for her son; no doubt whoever won the coming conflict would keep her out. The light wouldn't let her into the castle because it believed her a Death Eater. Voldemort wouldn't let her in because he wouldn't let her have anytime alone with her son, not when she could escape with him. And Mira knew, finally knew, for certain where Narcissa's loyalties lay. Her family. Her family was the only thing that was important.

"You see?! Harry Potter is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now! Watch! Crucio!"

Mira shut her eyes. Oh no! Oh no! She should have expected it! After all what sort of villain would allow a dead foe's body to remain unsullied on the ground. No. Proof and victorious ritual humiliation had to happen first. She was determined to remain limp, to feign death and make not a single sound. She knew it wouldn't be possible for long and prayed Voldemort's curse would not last.

Yet no pain came.

She was thrown into the air. Once, twice, three times she flew through the air and landed. No pain. She remained floppy and lifeless all through out, didn't even reach out for her borrowed glasses as they flew off. Thankfully her wand stayed in her pocket, though it slipped a little.

More cheers went up, more celebrations. Then Voldemort called upon Hagrid to carry her body to the castle. It was a bumpy and very wet trip. Hagrid cried giant tears. His chest heaved and contracted with his blubbering over Harry's death. Mira was touched by it, she knew Hagrid had cared deeply for Harry and she was sorry to see him in so much pain now. Hopefully later…later he would not be so unhappy.

The forest was left behind shortly after setting off; Mira knew it from the lightening and freshening of the air. They all stopped once or twice and Voldemort hissed out loud exclamations that the war was over, Harry Potter had died and all their pointless fighting served no purpose now. They, and all wizarding kind under the sun, had one Lord and one Master – him.

They went on further. The ground beneath Hagrid's large feet changed from a soft grass ground to a hard stone one, the sounds of shoes clopping on the stone was the give-away. On and on they went then they came to a halt.

"NOOO!"

The scream was the most terrible thing Mira had ever heard. She had never dreamed such a stoic and regal professor like McGonagall could make such a heart wrenching, gut tearing noise. Her mother, Bellatrix, gloried in the despair, calling out taunts and cackles.

More people screamed, yelled, grieved aloud. Mira heard 'Harry!' several times. She heard the screams of her once best friends; Ron, Hermione and Ginny's voices were loudest, Neville's was angry but fraught with grief too. Luna's was a soul-despairing scream. Then Neville's voice called out abuse at the Death Eaters, other's screamed and rampaged them with words. The abuse was like a wall of hate for all of the Death Eaters and Voldemort. It filled the air as a cacophony of sound until Voldemort roared, SILENCE!

Mira was lowered to the ground and Voldemort gloried in Harry's death, rubbed everyone's faces in it.

Ron called out bravely, the charmed silence broken and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again.

A loud bang silenced the crowds and Voldemort once again hissed out a lie about Harry's cowardice with relish and sick pleasure in his voice.

Then there was a roar. Mira opened one eye carefully, squinting and doing her best not to make the movement too noticeable.

A figure was flung away with one bat of Voldemort's wand. The challenger flew to the ground heavily but immediately sat up. His wand was not with him but the look on Neville's face spoke volumes for how he didn't care about it.

"And who's this?! Who is this brave volunteer to demonstrate the punishment of those ridiculous enough to continue such a futile fight?!"

"Ha _HA_!" Bellatrix's screaming cackle shot through Mira like lightning. Her dear mother revelling once more. "It is Longbottom! Neville Longbottom, son of Aurors, you remember don't you my lord? The arrogant little boy who has been giving the Carrows so much difficulty?"

"Ah yes." Voldemort hissed. Neville struggled back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, but yet standing in the no-man's land between Voldemort's army and Hogwart's army. He stood proud and tall, though a little worse for wear. He was bleeding, he was blackened in areas from dirt of from soot Mira did not know. But he had a look in his eyes, a look of determination and a lack of fear. Neville; good, brave, Neville.

"You are a pureblood aren't you, my brave boy?"

"So what if I am. That means nothing." Neville spat.

"All purebloods are welcome as Death Eaters, and your spirit, your bravery, makes you a very welcome and valuable Death Eater."

"Oh I'll join you when hell freezes over! DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY!" Neville roared and a dozen, a hundred, several hundred, voices joined him cheering and stamping. Mira couldn't see Voldemort's face but she imagined it was twisted in rage. He hissed and slashed his wand. Neville went rigid and Voldemort strode up to him taunting him then placed the sorting hat squarely on Neville's head, covering his eyes so Neville couldn't see.

Then Voldemort hissed out his displeasure to the crowd, pointed his wand at Neville and set the sorting hat ablaze. Neville screamed. Neville was aflame. He could not move, he could not escape, and he could not remove that damned burning hat.

Mira couldn't take it. She couldn't just lie there anymore and allow Voldemort to do that to Neville! To any of her friends!

Several things happened at once.

Roars of people, angry and distant, became louder. Hundreds of feet stamped forwards angrily charging.

Harry Potter ripped off his cloak as he ran at Neville, flinging himself at him and tearing the burning cloth from his head.

Mira rolled forwards, grabbed her wand from her pocket and scrabbled to her feet running straight for Harry.

"What is this?!" Somebody demanded.

"Quick!" Harry ordered, having spotted her. She made it to him within seconds and he flung the invisibility cloak back over himself, her and Neville. Neville was panting with pain, looking delirious and sore, with red seared flesh around the rim of his head. His hair smelt burnt, even had a patch that was charcoal brown and fizzed from the flames.

"Bloody hell…Harry? Harry?" He muttered then shook his head. "I'm dead…"

Mira couldn't help but find that slightly funny. She huffed a laugh and looked at Harry who confused but amused. "Not quite what you expected huh Neville?"

"Nope. Not at all."

"Come on, let's move you." Between them, being very careful of the cloak, they staggered Neville back towards the Hogwarts army who were stood ready and raring to fight. Once there, out of sight behind them all, Harry pulled back the cloak.

"Look Neville, I don't have time to explain, but I do need you to listen, okay? You need to kill the snake. Voldemort's snake. It needs to die. Before I can kill Voldemort that snake needs to die. Let everybody know."

"Okay. Bu-bu-but…Harry? Why are there two of you? And if I've got to kill the snake am I not dead?"

"No, you aren't dead. And there being two of us is way too tricky to explain right now. Just, trust us okay?"

Neville nodded again and Harry grabbed Mira's arm, eyes staring at her seriously from behind his circular specs.

"You aren't dead."

"It would take a long time to explain."

"Right. Come on then." He nodded trustingly and Mira allowed herself to be pulled along by him, once more beneath that trusty cloak. Then she halted.

"Oh no wait! Wait! Look you have to disarm me. Something about wand loyalties and the Elder Wand being loyal to you, except that I disarmed you so now it's loyal to me and if you are going to kill Voldemort you can't have the wand not loyal to you." She garbled out and Harry looked completely bewildered for all of a few seconds before shaking his head.

"Don't you get it yet? We are the same person! Now come on!"

They ran back to the front of the Hogwarts group. People were screaming and fighting. Hogwarts students against Death Eaters. Aurors against dark wizards. Dumbledore's Army against Voldemort's.

They ran forwards, unseen by everybody. Mira had to pause though and pulled Harry to an abrupt halt as Molly screamed at Bellatrix for attacking Ginny. Ginny was safe but the scream…oh Molly's scream.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

Bellatrix laughed, Molly snarled, and they attacked with words first of all. Harry at first was tuggin on Mira's arm then he saw what she saw and muttered 'Ginny!' before stopping and watching as Ginny was pulled to Arthur's side.

"No! Get back! Get back! She's mine!"

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?! When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?!"

Fred was dead?! Fred?! Fred Weasley?! Mira looked to Harry, he nodded grimly upon seeing her look.

"You – will – never – touch – our – children – again!"

It was a fight to the death and when that death came it wasn't as Mira first expected. A house wife against a trained, insanely murderous woman?! No…Mira should have expected it. A Mother, fighting for her children.

Molly won. Bellatrix's eyes bulged out her mocking twisted smile frozen. Mira saw realisation in her eyes, her mother knew she was about to die.

And then she did.

Bellatrix toppled over. Dead. Molly snarled, nodded then turned to find another Death Eater to fight, clasping Ginny by the hand for a moment as she went.

"You okay?" Mira nodded to Harry's question. "Good, because we've got to go."

They ran again, past an army of house elves wielding knives, saucepans and rolling pins. At the front of the horde, his bullfrog's voice audible despite the din, was Kreacher wearing Regulus' locket. Mira didn't know whether to be elated Kreacher was fighting or horrified he had left her babies alone.

"Fight! Fight! Fight for my master, defender of house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus Black and Mira! Fight!"

Bloody hell. Mira settled on proud.

On they went. On.

Another group of fighters and somehow Neville had made it there. Ron and Hermione were doing their best to tackle Nagini, Neville had Gryffindor's sword in his hands and the sorting hat once again on his head only it wasn't ablaze anymore. The slash of the silver blade could not be heard as Neville swung it, but the faint light reflected off the shining surface and sparkled on the deadly downswing. Nagini's head was swept off. It arched through the air, spinning up into the rafters before falling. It landed with a thud in front of Voldemort who roared with a fury nobody could hear as the snake's body flopped down useless and limp between Neville, Ron and Hermione.

Harry tugged Mira a few more steps and then they were opposite Voldemort. Harry squeezed her arm.

"Ready?" He asked, pulling his wand from his pocket. Mira pulled hers and they switched wands. He was more familiar with the one she had, and she more familiar with the one he currently held.

"Yes."

"Good." Harry pulled the cloak off in one swift movement and yelled "VOLDEMORT!"

Voldemort spun around and screamed with a fury and terror that couldn't be heard because no noise made it out of the monster's mouth.

"Two Harry's!"

"Harry's ALIVE!" People exclaimed, then cheered. People stopped fighting and looked, yelling in delight or dismay and so it went on. The news travelled back like ripples through a lake. People turned to stare. They had their attention.

"How is this possible?! How…Mirabella…" Voldemort hissed with such disgusted fury in his voice as he stared between them, red eyes ablaze with anger beyond measure.

They began to circle each other. Harry and Mira on one side of the circle; mirroring each other's moves so intrinsically it truly did look and feel like they were one. Voldemort sidestepped, hunched and spitting his wrath.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help." Harry said loudly, and in the total silence left behind by the ripples of news his voice carried easily. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

"Ah but you lie Harry Potter. You don't fight alone and that isn't how you work is it? Always another, always somebody to play the shield. Who will be your shield today Potter? The real Harry, or Mirabella?"

"Nobody." Mira called simply, because it truly was that simple. "It's just you and me. You and Harry Potter."

"Neither can live while the other survives, isn't that right Tom? And one of us is about to leave for good."

"One of us?! And you think it will be you?! The boy who survived by accident and the girl who played dress up all her life?!"

"No. I think it will be you. The monster, the abomination that tried and failed to kill a baby." Harry said and Voldemort's face contorted with barely restrained, badly veiled, fury.

"You failed so many times! Haven't you learned yet Riddle?"

"You dare-!"

"Oh yes I dare. I've always dared. We have always dared." Mira gestured to Harry for it was about him too. "You don't understand the most important things about life, so how could you expect to master death?!"

"You survived by accident! Because Dumbledore was pulling your strings! And because you have a backup just in case one of you died."

"But we are both here. Both of us to face you together."

"One Harry. One day. One fight. And soon, only one Voldemort."

"I have hundreds and thousands of Death Eaters, and what do you have? A few school children and a house wife."

"A house wife who ever so brilliantly took care of Bellatrix LeStrange." Harry taunted and Mira was gratified to realise those words held no weight with her. Nothing at all, not a single pang of regret. With Voldemort though…those words had his eyes widen and his breath quicken.

"You never did understand the important things." Mira taunted and Voldemort spat a disgusting taste out of his mouth, glaring his blood red eyes at them.

"What is this? More talk of _love_. The ridiculous blubbering's of an old and useless old man."

"Dumbledore understood more about this life than you ever will. You, you are too blinded by not dying that you failed to learn the most important bits about living." Mira said earnestly, though with such conviction that her voice resonated.

"And that is your downfall." Harry muttered, adjusting his grip on his wand.

They circled some more, round and round, taunting and throwing jabs at each other but never actually striking the first blow. Neither side wanted to be the ones to strike first. Mira was happy to follow Harry's lead; he seemed to have a plan.

They discussed Dumbledore and all his great plans. They talked of his strength, his weakness, and his victories where Voldemort failed. That nearly set Voldemort off. But what truly started to tip the bucket was Snape. Harry tanked of Snape almost reverently, a complete shock to Mira who still adamantly despised the man. Harry talked of loyalty and love; the loyalty to Dumbledore created out of the love for Lily. Snape's patronus was Lily, a doe. Mira's patronus was two little birds now, her two little birds. Harry Potter's had been a stag.

"Dumbledore's last plan failed!"

"Yeah it did, you're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you have done…think, and try for some remorse, Riddle…"

"What is this?" Oh Mira could have echoed that statement but she didn't want to undermine what Harry was doing. Voldemort's pupils contracted though, and he went even whiter than his usual skin colour. He must have picked up on something Mira didn't know about. Harry was hitting home.

"It's your one last change, it's all you've got left. Be a man…try…try for some remorse…"

"You dare - ?" Came the repeated angry question.

Harry reared up like a fierce lion, standing taller and prouder than ever. "Oh yes I dare, because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle."

How…? How did it?! Oh…Mira understood. The wands. The wands!

Mira tuned them out until Harry got to the bit about Draco. Harry declared how he got to Draco first, how he owned Draco's wand. It wasn't true though. Mira clasped at Harry's arm to remind him but he quickly grabbed her hand and held it tight, squeezing it reassuringly. He had a plan. He must, he _must_ , have a plan.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" Harry whispered. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does…I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

The enchanted ceiling suddenly burst with red-gold light as dawn broke over the horizon. The world bathed in red, the dazzling sun sparkling suddenly in a side window. The light nearly dazed Mira but then she saw Voldemort move, and with a high pitched shriek he bellowed out his curse. Harry raised his wand, gripping her hand tightly. Mira flung up her wand arm and together, in a unison so unequivocal, they shouted: "Expelliarmus!"

There was a boom like cannon fire as two different coloured lights collided. The beams turned a glorious gold then the beam arched as the Elder wand was torn from Voldemort's hand and arched through the air. Harry and Mira reached out for it. Mira's hand grasped it first, Harry's hand closing over hers.

Voldemort's body fell backwards, limp and lifeless. His arms splayed he fell back and landed with a dull thud that seemed to echo and etch itself into Mira's memories. Small puffs of dust plumbed from beneath him. Nagini's head lay by his feet, a puddle of blood marring the stone floor. Mira and Harry stared down at Voldemort's empty husk. A buzz began to fill Mira's ears, a strange white light edged in around her vision and her mind totally blanked out for a few seconds as she stared.

He was dead.

Voldemort was dead.

It was over.

A squeeze.

Mira glanced over. Harry was turning towards her, both of their hands still clasping the Elder wand. Harry looked just as dazed and slightly bewildered as she felt.

"I didn't…"

"I don't..."

The both started at the same time. Then sighed. Then laughed.

And then laughed some more. Before she knew it she was in Harry's arms and he was in hers. They hugged joyously, muttering 'it's over' time and time again. Everything was over.

The next few seconds, minutes, _hours_ , were abuzz with activity. The Death Eaters were rounded up. The bodies were carried away. Voldemort's body was put aside, everyone deciding that a burial for the Dark Lord was not appropriate and that he should be burned until not even cinders remained of him.

Harry was embraced by friends and family. Mira was embraced too, still looking like Harry as she did. They got more than a few strange looks, and many more questions. Harry deferred all questions until later, telling the majority that it was a clever spell so it looked like there were two of them, a spell to throw Voldemort off balance. He told his friends, their friends, that he would explain all later.

Later came many hours after the sun had fully risen. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna and Mira all walked upstairs to find a classroom to have a quiet chat and a rest from the hustle and bustle. They were all exhausted, everyone was. But a talk was necessary.

The classroom they found, ironically, was a Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. One where Gilderoy Lockhart had held his classes, that much was obvious by the sheer number of looking glasses around the place. Mira caught her reflection and stared for a while before looking back to Harry, the question on her lips but never voiced.

"This is…no…that doesn't matter." Harry began. "When I was a baby Aberforth Dumbledore swapped me, Harry Potter, for another baby. This other baby had the metamorphmagus gene and could change shape even at that young an age. The baby morphed into an exact copy of me and Aberforth froze her that way, froze her as Harry. He took the real Harry Potter, me, away to keep safe, to train. The other baby grew up in Privet Drive and lived the life of the Harry as you know him. Then, last year, Aberforth realised the switch back had to be made. Albus Dumbledore was gone, the protections on Harry Potter's house were failing, he knew that thanks to Alastor Moody who helped train me, and so they planned to make the switch. It was easy. I took over the life I had grown up learning about."

Harry explained that he had learned all about the other Harry's life through pensieves. Mira had been obliviated each year when she grew up after having copies of her memories extracted. Harry had to study those memories, learn them, become the Harry he saw in them. It was easy, he claimed, because that Harry had a life I wanted but wasn't able to have. He didn't feel resentment, he wasn't raised that way. He only hated Voldemort and his only purpose was to become Harry Potter and kill Voldemort.

But Alastor's death meant that Mira had discovered her heritage and had never been killed. The horcrux never removed from her until that evening in the woods. Mira didn't describe her life in detail, just summarised the last few months as torturous and horrifying in Voldemort and her true parent's care.

By the end of the story telling rages had calmed, confusion was remedied, and hearts were laid open. Harry confessed to loving Ginny, she returned his affections although was a bit reticent over the fact she knew so little about him now and only really knew about Harry. Hermione and Ron confessed their love for each other and their acceptance of Harry, and in fact Mira. Neville expressed his love and friendship for all of them and how he truly respected them all. Luna hugged everyone and declared them her best friends and how she couldn't have hoped for better.

When the time came for Mira to change back she begged her friends to understand that she didn't choose her parents. They nodded but looked confused. When Mira released her concentration on her form those looks became wide-eyed and shocked and it took several long moments before acceptance and understanding seeped in.

"So…so you are Bellatrix's daughter then?"

"Yes. Mirabella LeStrange."

"Well you are a mirror of Bellatrix, that's for sure." Ron, very uncouthly, stated and it earned him a sharp jab in the ribs by Hermione's elbow.

"No. She's a Mirror of Harry. Or rather, I am her reflection." Harry said and stepped up to her in support. She smiled, appreciating it.

"Oh of course! Well, you did lead life under the same name didn't you?! And I've read that names used to have power, which I suppose we all understand given Voldemort's name and the fear and stigma that had around it." Hermione postulated quickly and Mira couldn't hold back her laugh. Hermione blushed and trailed off.

"Still the same old Hermione." Mira mused and Hermione beamed, stood up and embraced her.

"Still the same old Harry, no matter what you both look like." She said as she pulled away and gave Harry a rueful but cheerful hit to his arm.

Mira left them after a while to go downstairs, the friends had some catching up to do and Harry was probably in a better position to tell them than Mira was. She was tired and she was needed elsewhere. Neville escorted her down.

"So…you are a LeStrange? That's…well…that can't have been very nice for you."

"No. Not especially."

"Well, I don't know how to…look." Neville said, seeming to steel himself for the oncoming conversation.

"I know what my parents did to yours. I'm really sorry Neville. I truly am. But I am nothing like my parents, I swear to you." She implored and Neville quickly grabbed her by the shoulders and shook his head.

"No, I know that. I was just going to say that I'm not sorry for it but I know they were your parents so I am sorry for your loss."

"My loss…" Mira felt completely thrown. Loss? What loss? Neville frowned a little too and lowered his head to meet her eye to eye imploring her to grasp his meaning. She didn't though which meant he had to continue after a while.

"Your…your parents are dead. The LeStrange brothers were taken out by the Weasleys earlier, and I saw Molly take out Bellatrix with my own eyes. They were evil people and they absolutely deserved what was coming to them. The world would be better off without them. But I am sorry for your loss."

"Oh." Mira frowned. They were dead? All of them? All 3 LeStranges were dead? Huh… "Right. Ok."

"Umm…" Neville looked so utterly bewildered by the serenity in her voice and complete acceptance. "You are taking this very well…"

"Neville, they were horrible people. You are right, the world is better off without them." Mira agreed and relief shone through every tired pore of Neville's face. He deflated a bit with relief then chuckled a little. Mira snickered and patted him on his very dirty shoulder.

"We-" Neville started but there was a weird shriek and tiny hands attached themselves to Mira's legs. She stared down in shock seeing Kreacher bawling into her clothes.

"Mistress! Mistress you is being alive! Kreacher is sorry! Kreacher is bad house elf! He be leaving little Master and Mistress in safe place and fighting. Kreacher is fighting for you and for them against Dark Lord. I is sorry! Bad elf! Bad Elf!"

"No!" Mira shouted and crouched to pull the distraught house elf into a tight hug. "You are one of the bravest elves I have ever met! You led and army Kreacher! I'm so proud of you!"

"Oh Mistress is so good! So good! Kreacher is not deserving praise."

"Yes you are. You deserve so much honour Kreacher! You fought for Regulus and helped us win! Voldemort is gone. The babies will be safe now, safe from him and safe from my parents."

"Babies?" Neville echoed.

"Ah! Babies! Kreacher be getting them for Mistress!" Kreacher declared, wrenched himself backwards and disappeared with a crack.

"Uh…babies?" Neville asked again looking so out of his depth. He was a sight to be seen really. The tall man had muscled out impressively and carried himself with pride now, though his bewilderment was a stark contrast to that pride. He was bloody, dirty, scuffed and filthy, had the biggest dark rings under his eyes and was still carrying Gryffindor's sword around.

"Yes. Babies." Any further questions were left silent as Kreacher popped back into the castle with two very wiggle and distressed bundles. On his back he had a large baby bag packed to the brim with things. Mira had no doubt Kreacher had thought of everything but discarded even the slightest, the quietest, thoughts of doubt in favour of picking up her babies from him.

She knew she was filthy and disgusting, she probably smelt too, but she couldn't _not_ hold her babies. She cuddled them up and rocked them, shushing and cooing. Surprisingly clever eyes latched onto her and her little girl hushed immediately, hair going purple and eyes turning green. Her little boy's hair changed to orange and then to a sickly green as he scrunched up his face and let off the most disgusting smell as something vibrated through his behind.

"Oh! Oh that's just lovely! Thanks a lot." Mira laughed, leaning down to kiss both of their heads. Her little boy squirmed and wailed, uncomfortable and upset. Mira sighed and made to give her little girl back to Kreacher.

"They yours?"

"Yes."

"Both of them?"

"Yes. Twins." Neville looked so completely out of his depth. His mouth hung open and his eyes were wide. Mira snorted. That wasn't Neville's best expression. "I know right. Do you want to hold one for me?"

"Uh…I…Um…ok?" He babbled, the words not really amounting to anything and held no real sense. They were more an instinctual reaction. Mira handed over her little girl and bent down immediately to take care of her son's nappy. When she stood up again with a much more contented little boy she found Neville staring at her daughter in terror. Mira laughed and rescued him, taking the baby expertly in one arm.

"Considering the war we just thought, it's quite amusing to see a baby completely terrify the brave and courageous Neville Longbottom." That snapped Neville out of his daze and he rolled his eyes at her.

"Yeah well it's a baby, I mean what do I do with a baby?!" He joked then looked at her carefully. "You think I'm brave and courageous?"

"Oh yeah. You stood up to Voldemort. There aren't many people alive who can do that…or could do that…" She frowned, muddling her tenses. Shaking her head she tutted at herself. "I better-"

"Hey! You guys are still here! I-woah! What's that?!" Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny came barrelling around the corner but came to an abrupt halt when they caught sight of what was in Mira's hands.

"They are babies!" Neville declared then grinned cheekily. "What? Haven't you ever seen a baby before?"

Harry's eyes immediately zeroed in on Mira and the emotions there went unreadable before changing to a sorrow so profound that Mira felt it in her heart.

"Oh I am so sorry." He muttered and Mira found herself looking away.

"It's fine."

"So this is what you meant…" Harry trailed off. An uncomfortable silence fell over them before Harry stepped up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She could hear the others shifting uncomfortably, not sure what to say. "I didn't believe you. Twins huh?"

"Yeah." Mira laughed. "A girl and a boy. Ironic huh?"

Harry did laugh then reached a careful finger out to touch the baby's chins.

"Their father?" He asked quietly, but everyone was in such close proximity that there was no doubt they would have heard.

"Dead."

"Ah."

"I'm an orphaned widow. Neville just informed me that my parents, and my uncle, are dead. I suppose the only family I have left are the Malfoys, assuming they survived."

"Draco was fine last I saw." Neville piped in being reassuring.

"And it's not true. The family bit. You have us." Harry interjected. "You are family. My sister, in all but blood. You are family."

Mira felt tears well up in her eyes as there were hasty agreements thrown out there and people gathered around them embracing her, Harry and the babies. It was Mira's little girl who finally broke the hug with a grizzling whimper. Everyone jumped back babbling some nonsense about not wanting to hurt the babies. Mira calmed them and told them that the babies probably needed a feed. Kreacher held up two bottles but Mira shook her head saying she'd take care of it. It would give her a chance with her little family.

Her friends let her go with the promise for her to find them as soon as she was done. She found a spare room to the side of the Great Hall and settled down on the floor. Kreacher helped her clean herself up quickly and get changed into her robes which had easy accessibility to allow her to feed her children. She settled down, her babies happily attached to her boobs for a feed. Kreacher hurried about here and there busying himself with laying out clean clothes for the twins, getting bowls of water so they could be cleaned if they needed to be. Mira watched him go consideringly, her memory of the elf forever overlaid with the image of him bravely shouting for the elves to fight in the name of his brave master. Regulus Black, the man who discovered Voldemort's horcrux's. Without him they probably would never have defeated Voldemort.

It took a while but the babies were all sorted out and, with her little boy in Kreacher's arms and her daughter in her, Mira walked them all out into the great hall to find her friends and family. The Malfoys were there in the corner but she didn't approach them yet. Instead she walked over to Neville who was sat quietly next to his Gran. No sooner did he see her he stood up and offered her his seat. Augusta began making a fuss immediately upon seeing her, screaming she was a LeStrange. Neville calmed her down, told her who Mira was but Augusta was having none of it. With a muttered sorry Mira quickly turned and went away.

Confidence battered a little she avoided all eye contact and made to leave the hall. Harry caught up with her though.

"Hey, where do you think you're going? Come on, Molly wants to meet you." Mira didn't protest and allowed herself to be steered over to Molly.

The Weasley Matriarch's eyes ran sharply over her appearance, no doubt noticing the stark similarities between her and her mother. Molly didn't look too happy and clicked her tongue. Mira, fearing another battering of insults and hate, curled around her daughter slightly and pressed backwards into Harry's hand around her back.

"Nasty piece of works your mother and father."

"Yes ma'am, I know."

"The most vile creatures on this earth and we are all lucky to be rid of them." Molly spat angrily. "Tried to kill my Ginny! Took my son from me! My gorgeous, perfect, mischievous son!"

Mira flinched, each word like a dagger. "Yes ma'am, I know. I'm sorry."

"Why?" Molly asked her voice terribly sharp and stabbing more pain into Mira. "Did you choose them?"

What? Mira looked up startled. Molly's once sharp and angry eyes had softened, tears swelling in them and her lips quivering.

"Hm? Did you choose them?"

"No." Mira blurted. "Never. I didn't choose them."

"No. Quite right. Now come here and give me a hug!" Mira all but fell forwards into Molly's open arms. The woman embraced her tightly, being careful of the baby still in Mira's arms but holding on tight anyway. Mira felt tears on her shoulder. She heard mumbles all around her. But she was hugging Molly. The woman welcomed her, _her_ , the daughter of Fred's killer. Molly welcomed her.

When Molly pulled back Arthur stepped forwards, then came Bill, Percy, Ginny, Ron…George came too looking white as a ghost and so very heart sick. He smiled weakly at her and gave her a hug.

"Harry told us about you. It's…well…it's good to have you back with us."

"Yes dear. Don't look so shocked. You aren't your parents. We know that better than anybody else." Molly tried to joke and patted Mira's cheek. Whether the woman would have said more was not important, words weren't necessary. Mira caught sight of Fred's body lying on the floor and began crying, and when others saw her looking they burst into tears which made her cry more. The Weasley family crowded around together mourning together. Harry then led her off to where Remus and Tonks were led side by side in death. That made her cry more and it was another hour and another baby feed later before Mira got her exhausted emotions calmed down enough for her to sit with her friends and let Madam Pomfrey check her over.

"All looks healthy dearie." Was the declaration. "Although you are a little dehydrated and should probably eat something."

"I is getting mistress something to eat and drink!" Kreacher declared and with a frantic demand for Harry to hold the baby Kreacher had his way and disappeared.

Harry held the baby awkwardly then settled it into the crook of his arm when Ginny muttered helpful instructions to him. "So," he started, "you never introduced us to them."

"Yes, what are their names?" Ginny asked, a sentiment echoed in Ron, Hermione, Luna and Neville's faces where they were gathered around. Mira pondered for a moment, searching the room while she searched her thoughts. Her eyes met with grey eyes across the hall and it seemed that was all Draco needed to come over. He was brave about it, though he gave everyone but her a wide berth. The others let him pass but Mira noticed many of them had their hands on their wands.

"Cousin." Draco whispered and chastely pecked her cheek before gazing at the babies. "I'm glad to see you."

"Me too Draco."

"Oh wow because that isn't weird." Ron muttered and Draco shot him a scathing glare.

"Ronald don't start."

"Oh hey, Malfoy. Here. This is yours." Harry said and carelessly tossed his wand to Draco. Draco caught it, barely, and stared at it with shock. Then he looked at Harry with a question in his eyes. "I don't need it anymore." Was all Harry gave by way of explanation and pulled the holly and phoenix feather wand out of his pocket. He gave it a wave, which had Draco flinching, but when the wand produced nothing but shining red and gold sparks Draco relaxed. Draco nodded his thanks, tongue seemingly tied for the moment.

"You repaired it!" Mira gasped, leaning forwards as if to touch, the lure of her wand strong, before she caught herself and leaned back.

"I did!" Harry grinned cheerfully. "I've never held a wand that felt so right before." Then he stopped short and gave her an apologetic frown. "Sorry…we should get you a new one. I know where Ollivander is, he'd help you I'm sure of it."

"Thank you."

"Cousin, would you introduce me to my niece and nephew?" Draco asked quietly and Mira nodded.

"If you pull up a chair then yes." Draco didn't have chance to move. Neville pulled up a chair for him and he sat with a bewildered nod of thanks. Once he was sat Mira handed over her little girl to Draco who took her and held her reverently, grey eyes staring all over the stirring baby's face.

"What's her name?"

"I…I haven't properly named them." Mira confessed making eyes turn to her in shock.

"But they've been alive for weeks!" Draco hissed, shocked completely. Mira shrugged.

"I didn't know what to name them. And with everything it wasn't a giant priority." People nodded in understanding and as Kreacher popped back in and handed over Mira's food and drink Mira confessed her thoughts. "I was thinking I'd name them in honour of people who helped me…who helped us."

She nodded to Harry who looked interested.

"I didn't want to name them for my parents…I mean…our parents." She looked to Harry again who gave a split second smile of gratitude and relaxed a little in his chair. Yes, she thought that would be the case. She thought he would want names to honour them. She might have got children first but it was more Harry's right and…and she would honour everybody in her own way anyway.

"So what did you decide on?"

"Well I thought about flower names a lot. There were a lot of flowers in all my families and I rebelled against all the ideas they had of naming my baby according to tradition."

"Oh don't I know it, mother was in a flap trying to calm everybody down after you declared that." Draco reminisced and Mira smiled at the memory. Yes she had caused a stir.

"So today when…when I was in the forest…" She shared another meaningful look at Harry so he would know what she meant. "I remembered how big of a sacrifice Lily Potter made and how important it was to our world. I might not want to keep with tradition but in honour of her I've chosen a flower…or should I say a spice that's weight it less than it's worth in gold. Saffron."

"Saffron. Saffron Montegue?" Draco asked which earned a few gasps and raised eyebrows at the revelation of the father. "Or Saffron LeStrange?"

"Saffron LeStrange." Mira confirmed then blurted the name out again. Her saying it seemed to give weight to it and confirm in her mind that it was right. Names did have power. "Saffron Ariana LeStrange. Honouring my mother, Lily Potter's, sacrifice and the part that Ariana played in bringing mine and Harry's lives into such a messy arrangement. But also to honour Professor Dumbledore, without him winning wouldn't have been possible."

"Oh that's perfect! Oh Ariana would be pleased…well, Dumbledore would be pleased too!" Hermione said, tears welling up.

"And the little boy?" Ron asked and Mira considered that one a little harder. She had a good first name but would the middle name be alright?

"I…I thought Harry for a middle name." She looked to Harry to see if it was ok. He looked shocked then pleased, then he laughed.

"To honour you or me?"

"To honour both of us…and James Potter because he clearly liked the name." Harry smiled and nodded his head, red fused to his cheeks in pleasure.

Mira steeled herself up for the next name. There was going to be a huge reaction she was sure. It was also a name that would fit with nearly all traditions from her blood family. At least they wouldn't dare to protest it. Mira looked to her son. She hoped he wouldn't find it a burden.

"What will his first name be then?"

Mira took a deep breath and flicked her gaze from her son to Kreacher whose bulbous eyes met her patiently. "Regulus Harry LeStrange."

Those eyes welled up with tears. Kreacher sniffed, his large nose twitching. He touched the locket around his neck then touched the baby.

"M-m-Master Regulus?"

"Regulus Harry LeStrange." Mira repeated. "To honour the man who gave his life to bring down Voldemort, and for the house elf whose loyalty to him helped defeat the most evil wizard the world has ever met."

Kreacher's blubbering and gratitude lasted for five months solid.

* * *

AN: About the names, I toyed for ages over the babies names. I also toyed with whether to make Mira have twins or just one baby. I settled on twins because it sat well with the whole Harry and Mira situation, especially being one girl and one boy. Naming them proved difficult. I had Saffron in my head for a while, Regulus came later but it fit beautifully. I also teach a little girl called Saffron, and a little boy called Reggie in the same class so saying the names together roll well for me now.


	10. Chapter 10

**Reflection Disclaimer**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profits from posting this fanfiction.

 **Summary:** Having lived till 17, it was a shock to go about his day and meet himself. Another him who attacked him. From there the day got stranger; his identity revealed what choice will Harry Potter's reflection take – help or defeat Voldemort?

 **Warnings:** Slash. Character death. Murder, violence, fighting. Drugging. Control. Manipulation.

 **Pairings:** OC/NL, HP/GW

Reflection Chapter 10

* * *

 **Christmas**

Mira kept herself and the children hidden away for the better part of six months. She went out only to visit people, or for a wander in muggle London.

Her babies had grown and now, at nearly seven months old they were exploring the world as far as they could go on their stomachs. Reggie had mastered crawling. He was a nightmare for getting underfoot and exploring as far as his knees and hands would let him. Saffron couldn't crawl but could now get her knees up beneath her tummy and push herself up onto all fours. From there she would do a little rock or two then fall back to her stomach and flap her arms and legs around wildly. Mira thought that girl was trying to fly and couldn't understand why it didn't happen like it did in the swimming pool.

The LeStrange's had constant visitors with the Malfoys, and often went over to the manor to spend an hour or two. Mira's favourite place was the Burrow, as it always had been. She didn't need to go to the Burrow to see Harry though as he had moved into Grimmauld place with her, he took Sirius' room of course. Mira liked living with Harry; she supposed it was because they were pretty much the same. He was often out though, either working or helping with clean up at Hogwarts. Mira had wanted to help but the task proved too difficult for her with the twins.

The newspapers still took delight in reporting Voldemort's death and Harry's triumph over him. Mira and Harry kept her part in the ordeal at a minimum but the Wizarding World did know that Mira had pretended to be Harry 'quite often' to help confuse Voldemort and ultimately help with his defeat. Some of the praise but not all the publicity. Mira was satisfied. Harry was thriving. They had compared cages and both decided they suffered equally but in different ways. At least neither of their 'captors' lived. Aberforth died shortly after the end of the war, and the Malfoys were never really Mira's captors.

"Oh! Who's a naughty boy then?! Crawling out here all by yourself." Mira grinned as she heard Neville's voice from the other room. She had watched Reggie crawl his way out of the lounge and onto the landing only minutes ago. Her little boy in blue, with bright purple hair, had clearly been on a mission and she wasn't about to stop him.

Heavy footsteps sounded and in walked Neville carrying a wiggling and babbling Reggie. Reggie had his hands on Neville's face, one on his cheek and the other on Neville's nose. Neville was trying to evade those hands but to no avail. He didn't seem to mind much if the grin was anything to go by.

"Hello." He greeted then turned to Reggie. "Look! We fund mummy! Mummy, mummy, mummy." Neville repeated and sat on the chair beside Mira. Spreading his legs open he placed Reggie between them so the tiny boy was standing on the ground with his arms resting on Neville's legs. Being as tall as Neville was it was quite a reach for Reggie but the little boy's strong fingers happily gripped the cloth of Neville's clothes and wobbled about all over the place on his feet.

"Hi. Good day?" Mira asked and Neville groaned then sighed, rolling his head and his shoulder.

"No, the worst." He didn't really mean that. "More Concealment and Disguise lessons but I'm appalling at pretending to be somebody else. So, as punishment, extra laps of the course. I'm muscling up well but that only makes it harder to blend in." Neville shot her a look and scowled. "I wish I had your talent, or even the babies talent for changing my appearance."

"Oh really? So you don't mind our hair changing colour at random moments?"

"Nah. It's like a mood ring isn't it." Neville joked and Mira threw her pillow at him. He deftly dodged and still maintained hold of her little boy.

"Thank god my hair keeps you guessing."

"Well yeah a bit, but to be honest I usually know how good of a mood you are in by how curly your hair is. On really curly messy days I know you are stressed, on only slightly curly days I know you are relaxed."

"Really? My hair does that?"

"Oh yeah." There was that roguish grin again. "I like the days when your hair is more loopy than curly."

"And what does that mean?" She asked impatiently and disbelievingly. Carefully balancing Reggie between his legs Neville reached out a hand and, after looking for permission in her expression, curled a small section of her hair around his finger.

"Happy and playful." He said at last. Mira felt her face flame and his finger released her hair. She didn't know what to say. Neville's eyes bore into hers looking and seeing, which were two very different things and it made more heat rush to her cheeks. Neville grinned. "Oh look, zigzags. That's new."

* * *

 **19 years later.**

Everybody was home for Christmas and Mira didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The twins were home causing all sorts of mischief changing their appearances and blaming the other for any issues that cropped up. Narcissa was going spare, but Molly took it all in stride and with a pat to Narcissa's shoulder told the woman to breath and ignore them. Narcissa did her best to do that and returned to the conversation she and Andromeda had been having. The two sisters had taken a long time to rekindle any semblance of friendship, but at last after nearly two decades they could sit and chat without forced pleasantness.

Scorpius was showing off his present to Albus Severus, Harry's youngest boy, with an enthusiasm and happiness that did Draco credit. That boy was happy and well adjusted. He might have been a Slytherin like his father and forefathers, but Scorpius had a great deal of Gryffindor boldness too. He probably got that from Albus Severus, that boy was surely too Gryffindor for Slytherin house but somehow managed to get placed there.

James Sirius Potter was chatting with one of his cousins as well as Teddy Lupin, Hermione's son Hugo was speaking with Lily Luna Potter about going to Hogwarts next year, and George's children were trying to trick each other with sweets.

It was busy and Mira loved it, but she wished they would all quieten down. She could barely think. Her head was sore, perhaps from a little too much wine, but more likely from a very hectic week.

"Why don't you go outside?" Neville asked, his calm deep voice right by her ear and soothing her right through. A finger twisted lightly through her hair and Mira knew, she just knew, what he was checking for and seeing.

"What if I'm needed?" She asked and pointed to where Draco was looking upset at something Ron had said.

"Then I'll call you. Go on. Get a breath of fresh air."

Mira nodded and squeezed his arm in thanks before making her escape. She went outside and immediately the chill from the snow all around her cooled her and slowed her racing thoughts. She breathed. Quiet. At last.

"Mama! Mama! I want to make a snowman!" Came a little voice from behind her and with a sigh she turned and shook her head at the little boy with hair that changed from mouse brown to blue at the sudden cold that had hit him the moment he went outside.

"Not right now. Go back inside."

"But Mama!"

"Oi! Leave your mother alone and get inside now." Neville's voice again, Mira could have sighed in relief. The little boy pouted and swelled up red, before quailing under Neville's stern gaze and running back inside with returned humour as only a six year old could. Neville tutted and escaped the house, using the already open door to his advantage.

"I thought you were going to stay in there and call me if I was needed."

"Well you are needed, just not in there." Neville grinned, the boyish grin taking the years off him. Mira frowned.

"What then?"

"Can't I wish my wife a Merry Christmas?" He asked and stepped up to her with faux-hesitating steps and a big grin. She rolled her eyes but smiled and accepted the kiss he leaned down to give her.

"Merry Christmas." She muttered when he pulled back and then leaned into his chest. He wrapped long arms around her shoulders and rubbed them lightly.

"Bit stressed?"

"A little." It had been a stressful week.

"Bedtime soon, then you can have some peace and quiet."

Haha as if. Not with Frankie's birthday coming up, two kids to return to Hogwarts and another term in command of the Wizarding Justice department to look forward to. How did she get voted in as Head of Department again?

"Hey Nev! There you are! And Mira! Wondered where you'd got to." Harry muttered emerging from the house. He looked rather haggard and stressed too as he left the Burrow and approached them looking more and more relieved with every step. "Um…sorry to interrupt but Daisy is causing a bit of a problem in there with the twins."

"Ah great, I'll go." Neville offered and, with another kiss to Mira's cheek, strolled off into the house to deal with their errant daughter. Harry breathed a huffed sigh of relief.

"Rather him than me. That Daisy…phew…you've got your hands full!"

Oh and didn't Mira know it.

She obviously had Reggie and Saffron, but three years after the final battle she married Neville, and one year after that welcomed Daisy into the family. Daisy Alice Longbottom. She was a strong willed young adult now with fierce views on defending anybody who she perceived as downtrodden. Mira knew Daisy got that from both of her parents, but Daisy had no mind for subtlety and when she butted heads with Saffron and Reggie…sparks usually flew. In one case, quite literally sparks flew.

Mira and Neville's second child was born two years after Daisy. At 13years old Edward Trevor Longbottom was timid and quiet. He barely spoke a word and when he did it was quiet. Mira worried about him constantly until he went to Hogwarts when, only one week into him being away, she had to deal with a frantic Neville in the floo who had laughed himself stupid because Edward had cursed some would-be bullies who had dared to pick on his toad. Mira didn't worry anymore. Everybody knew to be respectful of the shy and quiet Eddie, because if you got on his bad side you were in for a world of shame. It was always the quiet ones you had to watch out for.

The youngest was little Frankie. Well, Frank Wulfric Longbottom. He had been a shock. Mira thought her child bearing days were done then she discovered she was pregnant. Frankie was bouncy, happy, very changeable and very, very excitable. His concentration levels were poor, but even at six years old he could fly very well and had once even out flown his older siblings. If he didn't play Quidditch when he went to Hogwarts Mira didn't know what he would do.

"Neville knows how to handle Daisy."

"Oh I know he does. That man is fierce." Harry complimented and Mira grinned. Yes, Neville was fierce. He might now be a herbology professor but he had once been a very impressive auror. They all had. Harry, Neville, Ron and Mira all went into the Auror department. Mira transferred to the Justice department after just qualifying and had helped Hermione come up with many more laws protecting the rights of the people. Ron had left to help George in the store which had made him and the others rich but also gave him immense enjoyment. Harry was the only one who stayed on and now he ran the whole Auror department.

"So…are you escaping too?"

"Yup! Tactical retreat."

"Ah, well Merry Christmas."

"Thank you, and you. And hey, I've been meaning to talk to you about something for a while." Harry began and rubbed the back of his neck. Mira gave him her full attention, wrapping her cardigan around her more fully.

"Yeah?"

"Well, you know we've got this case about the so called Death Eater Fanatics?"

"Mm."

"Well I was considering laying a little bait in a trap for them." Harry said and Mira felt that statement pierce right through her. She smirked, oh that trick had served them both well for many years both before and after the war.

"Anything you need, just arrange some clothes and a mirror."

"Anything you need Mira."

* * *

Many, many years later, at the very old ages of 119 a witch and wizard glanced at each other from nearby beds in St Mungo's hospital ward. Smiles etched into ancient tired faces.

Their eyes closed.

At Kings Cross Station two people boarded a train side by side. They took seats side by side and waited out their journey together.

A certain old man met them at their destination and welcomed them to their next great adventure. Harry and his Mirror. The Mirror and her reflection.

* * *

Author's Note: And that's a wrap I'm afraid. In typical 'me' style, I gave several glimpses into later life where you get to see them when they are ok, but also see them end. I need that ending because otherwise I can't leave the characters alone. I hope you enjoyed it! And thank you to everyone who took the time to read this far, and patiently waited for me to update.


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